lune
by SebonzaMitsuki27
Summary: ByakuyaHisana, ShinjiHiyori, ToushirouKarin, UlquiorraNel. AU. Me and you and moonlight shivers.
1. Part I

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_o1.

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Byakuya finds her by chance, and later he'll say it was almost like witnessing comets fall from the sky.

It starts a bookshop, on the opposite side of the shelves, eyes peeking through. She mouths a _hello_, and all he can do is blink.

But—maybe this, feeling slightly strange and in unfamiliar territory, that what is known as love. The spark so insignificant that later becomes something cataclysmic.

Maybe that's it—their spark—one glance from afar, and a small desire to know who she is—before she shrugs and moves away. She walks past him, an angel dressed in a woollen scarf and fluffy mittens, faded jeans and a worn jacket, having selected her book.

She leaves him behind, and there's something so childish in thinking that it's utterly unfair.

But the lady turns back, mouth compressed, doe-like as she searches for something—_someone_.

She catches his eye again.

Smiles, pretty like the midnight glitter.

Then she's gone.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Bleach is not mine.


	2. Part II

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_o2.

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_

_Great._

Her jaw sets to the side, and she snarls out a sigh, impatience making her foot tap out a pattern from a song that she hates so damn much. Arms fold over her chest, before her temper is lost, and she's forced to take it out on the closed door that will not _open._ Because the person on the other side is a chauvinistic _pig_ that cannot be _bothered_ to move a few _steps_ and turn off that stupid _jazz_ music because he's an _idiot_.

"Shinji! Open the damn door right _now._" She scowls, resorting to this and raising her voice, standing outside his apartment. "Or I swear I'll kick it down!"

"Okay, okay." Her on-off ex-boyfriend, now ex-husband sighs, no doubt raking his hands through his hair, and turning off the jazz music. "Can't you ever take anger management issues or something? Or, at least, stay away? When I divorced you, I told you I never wanted to see you again." And the door opens, and the pathetically fake smile is already on his face – and she's always been able to see through it. "Hello darling."

"Didn't stop you from getting in my bed days later." Sarugaki Hiyori retorts, scowl marring her freckled face. Ignoring the last part, she steps into their—_his_ apartment because she used to own this dump. With this moron.

"Alcohol does wonders." Caustically drawling, Shinji rolls his eyes, unable to keep her out. "What's your excuse?"

"What else? Alcohol. And you. Two things which I am never doing again." She shrugs, not looking at him. Her ring finger is bare, she looks at that instead, pretending it's her nails she's looking at.

Shinji closes the door, unable to keep his temper in check, the words grit out of his month. "You think you're so smart…"

"Only compared to you." She smirks, and he pulls a face in return, narrowing his blue eyes.

He sighs. Why does he bother? "What do you want, Hiyori?"

She doesn't answer him, scrutinizing the new additions: different furniture, portraits, books and it's so much tidier than when she was around. But the place hasn't changed much – she only notices little details that don't really matter at all.

"_Hiyori_." A little testily, the blond warns her _not_ to test his patience. They're not—not like before.

They're not a married. They're not a couple.

In fact, he doesn't know where they stand at all.

"I need a place to stay."

"Hiroshima not your cup of tea after all?"

She ignores this, through she frowns like she always does. He knows _this_ particular frown so well. The half-frown, half-pout, that reveals her fangs, and used to mean she loved him.

"Thought I'd stay here." She says it so nonchalantly, that it's almost as if she doesn't care if she turns him away. But then, what's the reason that she came—to _him_—of all people, if she did?

"Why?"

"'Cause it's free." Hiyori snaps, aureate eyes flashing. "Alright?"

"Fine." Quietly, he says, rummaging for her key that he kept hidden all this time. He'll give in, because she's got a pretty face and when her face burns crimson, it reminds him of roses and wine. "You can stay. For a while."

His ex-wife just nods, not bothering to say _thank you._

And for the first time—Hirako Shinji realizes that he misses this belligerent relationship they have.

But he's damned if he tells her that.


	3. Part III

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_o3.

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_

It's moments like these that Karin thinks _this could be a love story._

Small moments, large moments, moments that no one else sees, moments that are seen on the television, seen by everyone; maybe none of it matters, but she likes all forms of romance. Draped in tragedy, hung in humour, she watches, she yearns.

The ones that don't last are the ones of her favourites.

The ones that never happen are what she likes best.

Maybe there's a fallout, maybe it's a bittersweet reason, maybe it's a twist of fate, and connection that no one else sees—but it's all in the details.

Yuzu would say she's too much of a romantic, and she would shrug it off.

Because maybe it's not the romance that interests her, but how things happen and unfold, how they don't and what is never said.

It interests her, and she watches.

Outside looking in, taking the bus, and gazing through the windows in cool detachment. Makes up stories on the spot, and wonders how much of it was true. Makes up reasons why the world keeps turning and the city keeps changing. The answer will never be revealed; but she watches, and she waits.

And she sees _him_—one day, every day—always a coincidence, always from afar.

She sees aquamarine eyes in a faded crowd. She sees her stranger, and thinks of clouds.

She sees him, and thinks _this could be our love story._

The greatest one never told.


	4. Part IV

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_o4._

* * *

Apple bottom jeans press against his, the only material that separates them from jumping each others bones. Nel loves the way her hips roll with his, hands roving, tugging his lips and biting them too. She grins at him, eyes crinkling in delight.

The music is nothing more than background prettiness, nothing compared to the floating feathers of laughter that peal out into the air, and a girlish shriek of delight as the bed bounces underneath them.

Limbs tangle, slender fingers locked in place and their long legs entwine. Noses collide, and Nel feels Ulquiorra's mouth curve against her neck. Only slightly, but it's enough. Teasing her, he kisses that spot that sends goose bumps down her spine.

They've been best friends forever, and it felt natural to upgrade the relationship.

First kiss, first date, first break up, first time.

They have needs; they have wants – perfectly shown now: as Ulquiorra wraps his hands around her waist.

She kisses him again, smiling cheekily, before she rolls away and finds her jeans on the floor. Steals the duvet and leaves him the pillow. He's not amused, but then, she knew he wouldn't be.

"See you in class." Nel blows him a kiss, combing her hands through her hair. "Got to meet up with someone."

Fiddling with her boots, there's a special spring to her normal sway, slamming the door behind her with a bubble of laughter left ringing in his ears.

"Bye."

And Nel is twirling away, humming a song that he thinks he heard on the radio.

Ulquiorra reclines on the bed, mulling over various things. He knows that he'll meet her in class; the chances are he'll be the punctual one instead of her, despite getting a head start. Because she'll stop and chat, and forget the time passing by, ticking clocks as quiet as a speck of dust. Nel forgets about it from time to time. And usually, he'll find her and drag her back to wherever she belongs, her hand finding his along the way. He'll roll his eyes, but he'll bear it. She is his best friend after all.

Best friend with benefits.

It's odd. It's weird. And he's not entirely sure he likes it. But she widened her eyes in a way that he is certain would convert kittens to take over the world, and he just couldn't refuse. Now part of him thinks that he's a little bit in love with her.

She says there's no one else.

But somehow Nel forgets that he knows her better than anyone.

Ulquiorra knows that she's fallen for someone who isn't him.


	5. Part V

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_o5._

_

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_

All Creation has consented to His own Death.

If something begins, then something ends.

And yet—this must not be taken pessimistically. There's hope in this, in a different angle.

For if all Creation has consented to His own Death, then surely all Death has consented to His own Creation.

If something ends, then something else begins.

* * *

They meet properly a month later, when she misses her train, seconds too late, and books spilling out of her arms.

"Oh, shoot." Hisana mumbles to herself, stooping to pick up the falling objects, messily stuffing them into her rucksack. "Misfortune, why must you love me…?"

"Excuse me." Someone says, and Hisana turns to the sound of the voice, eyes widening in surprise as she recognizes that face. It's not exactly a familiar face, but it's not an unwelcome one either. She hopes her intuition about him is correct. He seems nice—and she's always had a thing for pretty boys. "You forgot this."

"So I did." The dark haired lady compresses her lips, fighting a slight smile. She reaches out and takes her book, meeting no resistance at all. "Thank you for helping me."

"That's a good book." He nods, barely perceptible. "What are you studying?"

"Math." Hisana has no reason to be embarrassed, but her cheeks flush warmly all the same. She blames the weather, it looks like it's going to rain, and the freezing ambience isn't helping matters. "This book is for fun."

"I see." Though she can't tell yet, Hisana secretly thinks he might be impressed. She's just guessing though. "Where are you studying?"

"Tokyo Tech." It's a good university, but she wanted to go to the University of Tokyo. Still, there's no reason to be bitter. She's made a great friend in this place. "And… yourself?" She's not entirely sure if he's a student, there's something so sombre about him that it makes her a little sad, but she doesn't know why. She can't guess his age; he looks a little too old internally to guess externally.

"University of Tokyo." The stranger smoothly says, maybe a little proudly for her liking.

"Ah." She'd thought as much. He looks intelligent, and she's sure that there's more to him than meets the eye. "For law, perchance?"

"Correct." Again, there's that slight nod, and Hisana wonders if anyone else notices it, or if it's really just a blink-and-it's-gone tic of his that defines this person. "How did you—"

"Just a feeling. That's all." Hisana shrugs, impulsively interrupting him, before noticing the train beginning to approach. "So, I guess this is where we part."

"…" Something's caught in his mouth, and Hisana fixes her eye on him, suddenly aware of how petite she is in comparison to him. Quietly, he murmurs, "I could stay."

Shaking her head, Hisana will not have that. "_Go_. I'm not going to be responsible for whatever lecture you've got. Flattered as I am, rest assured, I am—I'm not going to let you skip whatever you've got going for you." She considers giving him a shove, but she's standing on uncertain grounds with him, and so she never does. "But I'd like to know your name before you go."

Another slight nod—does he have a rule of three or something?

"Byakuya." Her stranger with black hair and a pretty face informs Hisana factually. "And yours?"

"Hisana." She gives a slight smile, and thinks _this is nice_, from this chance encounter. The doors close in front of her, but she mouths these words: "Until we meet again." _Maybe in a bookshop again._

His expression seems a little bit bemused—Hisana can't really say, but she waves him off. Predictably, he doesn't return the gesture.

The train departs, and there's only five minutes to wait until her train arrives.

But in the meantime, she might as well text Nel about meeting up in their café, as usual.


	6. Part VI

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_o6._

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"… _I told you, I don't need a 'Momo'."_

Shinji smirks at the sound of this person's grumpy voice. Actually, knowing _him_, he doesn't even know he's being grumpy. He thinks he's being stoic and calmly stating the obvious. Well, to Hirako Shinji's ears, he's not. He sounds grumpy and pouty and this is quite clearly hormones kicking in for this delayed teenage denial. Of course, he's anything but a teenager, but Shinji's quite prone to exaggerate things when it suits him.

"Really?"

"_Yes. Furthermore, we are cousins, not brothers. I fail to comprehend how you don't understand this."_

"'Cause I think he's your clone." Pressing the phone between his shoulder and his ear, that awkward combination that begins to ache quickly afterward, Shinji tries to sort out his cereal, rummaging the fridge for milk. He would have cooked, but his delightful ex-wife has declared his cooking as 'poison'. Yesterday. Which is funny, except not, because before her – his cooking has been just fine. "That's my new theory. Like it?"

Of course not.

The person on the other side says as much.

"_No."_

"Yeah, well, you're not the one who considers your entire family tree as _abnormal,_ are ya?" His long tongue runs over his tombstone white teeth, and quickly adds. "Don't answer that. You know what I mean."

"…"

_Of course you don't._ "Forget it. I don't know what I was thinking." Quickly quipping, Shinji rolls his eyes. "Alright. Have to go, now. Tell your clone I said 'hello'."

"_He's not my—_"

Just for further annoyance, Shinji hangs up before his friend can finish his sentence. Deny it all he likes; it's obvious that his 'cousin' is a clone in disguise. Sure, the eye colour and the hair colour are different, but those are just minor details that nobody really cares about. It's kind of obvious that they're clones, and one day, Shinji intends to prove it. At least it'll be easier than zombies.

"Uh…" And a _different _kind of zombie rises from the dead and into the graveyard kitchen. Mussed up bed hair covering her eyes, Hiyori barely spends a glance in his direction, looking frazzled as she always does. And Shinji finds it sad that she can't even relax in her sleep—even if she's taken over his bed and forcibly moved him to the couch—because (he has a soft spot for her) Hiyori has a meant shoe slap.

"Morning sunshine."

"Shinji?" Confusion filters through her guarded voice, possibly because she hasn't been properly woken up yet. "What are you doing here?"

"_Skipping."_ Casually informing her, Shinji sits down in front of her, pulling up a chair—and taking his cereal before she has a change to steal it. She's been known to do that in the past, and while it was cute then, it isn't cute now. "I think we need to talk."

"Shinji—" Hiyori yawns, so reminiscent of a lion's roar without the shock factor; he can see those fangs of hers that he used to adore.

"Hiyori." In the same tone, minus the yawning, the blond mirrors the opposite blonde. "Let's talk."

"… after breakfast?"

"No, _now._"

* * *

After breakfast it is.

It happens to be one death glare too many, and Shinji wants to throttle her skinny neck. He's tired of letting her get her own way.

And Hiyori, for better or for worse, isn't quite as wide awake as he hoped. He's got a slap mark bright and burning on his cheek, and she's just munching on an apple. Apparently she likes apples. Apples are good. Apples are weird with her indents ripping their skins off.

"Fine. What do you want, Shinji?" A little grouchily, the petite blond says.

"Should I be asking _you_ that?" Arching his eyebrow, he makes sure that Hiyori catches his expression and knows how serious he's being. "I said you could stay a while. It's been three weeks."

"I know that, I _can _count."

"Oh, really? Never would have guessed. My point is, _dear_, what are you still doing here?"

Heat flushes across her cheeks, and Hiyori starts, like she's been caught in something compromising. But this isn't compromising. It's just a fact of life, and if Shinji wants to know how long she's staying here, then she should tell him. But she doesn't know the answer to that question. And Shinji _knows_ this.

"Just—think about it, Hiyori. That's all I ask." Relenting slightly, there's no missing that softening of expression, one he tries to masquerade with boredom. Smoothing his clothes, non-existent creases on his semi-formal suit, he begins to go, after picking up his briefcase. "Later, Hiyori."

"… later." Hiyori mutters in a low voice, her bottom lip sticking out. She doesn't look at him as the door slams shut.

There's a really small part of her that wishes he hadn't heard her.

* * *

Hiyori had wanted to say _forever_. Just for a second, just for a moment. But then she remembered that _forever_ was supposed to exist in marriage and vows and gold rings, and that had all crumbled apart all too easily. Forever would never become a reality, and reality is what broke them. They would have destroyed each other, people said, but, as her hairbrush rakes through her hair, Hiyori doesn't think that's true.

They _wouldn't_ have destroyed each other – they weren't like that. Before. They… just would have blazed beautifully. Just like marshmallows, in that special hue. Tasty to eat, and delicious in that particular flavour.

But things are different. Things have changed.

They didn't destroy each other—but they fell apart all the same.

* * *

She wants to tell him the truth.

The reason why she's here.

But she can't.

Not yet.


	7. Part VII

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o7._

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"Wakey-wakey, bear." Long brown hair shimmers before him, and a teasing flick of the nose jolts his attention back to life. Scowling, Hitsugaya Toushirou flicks her hand away, taking the time to check that his poor flicked nose was all right.

"Stop it." He grumbles, fully aware of the smile on her face, completely and wholly amused by his reactions. He wasn't sleeping, he was just… distracted. These past few days have been a little slow, that's all. It's fine, and he can handle it, but there's no motivation for the work he does. Then her words register, and he lifts his eyebrow, somewhat puzzled, somewhat derisive. "… _bear_?"

"Well, you remind me of a bear. A big, grumbling, growling bear." Violet eyes dazzle in laughter. She'll tease him whenever she can; harnessing it like a duck takes to water. Eyes wide, she tilts her head to the side. "So, since you don't like 'Shirou-chan', and I refuse to call you 'Hitsugaya-kun', I decided that 'bear' would suffice instead." She blinks prettily, a smile tugging the corner of her lips, waiting for his response.

He sighs. Shrugs. There's no changing her mind. But he can retort back that _might_ advocate her to do so. "… I preferred 'Shirou-chan.'"

"Oh…" And she visibly wilts, crestfallen with his new rejection of this nickname. But the moment is only fleeting, and seconds later that bright smile has risen again once more. "Well _tough_." Unshaken by his gruff demeanour, she smiles cheekily, much to his annoyance. "'Cause I'm calling you 'bear'."

_Until the end of the day._ Toushirou mentally finishes, knowing exactly how her thought process rolls. He nods, unable to do anything but accept this. _Or until I get tired of it._ "… fine."

He couldn't stop her anyway, even if he tried.

"Come on, stop lazing about. Aren't _you_ the one who wanted to make money, after all?"

"And what are you, Momo?" Bluntly, he asks back, with no malicious intent.

She shrugs. "Your sidekick, I think, and I'm now helping you _not lose your job._"

The waitress grins, and pushes him outside, so the other waiter will stop loitering inside the kitchen, staring at the freezer. This way, he can take down customer's orders, and be productive.

… lately, he's been prone to dream.

* * *

Karin tries her best to suppress a yawn.

Her route is no different to any other day.

Dull, grey, and boring, like a motorway; she's still staring out the window, gazing for something she doesn't know.

Cities, shops, cafés, restaurants, today everything passes her by because she's not paying attention.

Except this time, she can smile. She can smile every day, if she likes, but this is the first time in a while that she'll _mean_ it. She's got something to look forward to.

She's meeting a friend today.

* * *

"C'mon, tell me what the matter is." Momo says, holding his hand as she tugs him towards the table, and steals a tangerine just because she can. She likes tangerines, after all. Not as much as her namesake—_peaches_—but all the same, she likes tangerine. "You've been like this for _days_, bear. What's the matter?"

"… I…" He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. His hands twitch, trying to gesture blindly, but the truth of the matter is that he doesn't know. "… I don't know."

"_Toushirou_." Hoisting herself onto the table, the raven haired girl gives him a pointed look. For the first time in a while, she's used his actual name. So, this is serious then. "You've got to be better than that." Beginning to peal the orange skin, her head is downcast, but her voice is by no means unclear. "I'm your best friend, bear. You know what that means, right?"

Yeah, he knows what that means.

"It means that you're my best friend too, Momo."

Unconsciously, his hands have dug into his pockets.

"_Bear."_ Momo's eyes flash a warning sign, and though the cute adoration is there, there's concern clear as the rose tinted warmth on her face. "Be serious."

It's hard to be serious when she keeps giving him pet names.

But—with another look from Momo—he answers the question seriously.

"… it means that we don't hide anything from each other. I know, Momo. I know."

"Exactly. I tell you everything." She ruffles his hair, and he turns his head away to conceal the slight smile on his face, mistaken by her to be a scoff. "I just wish you could do the same."

"Truth is, Momo, I don't know what the matter is. I'm just… feeling wistful, I guess."

* * *

When she finds their rendezvous point, she sits by the willow in the park, hiding beneath its curtain of leaves which veils her from the world. Making herself comfortable, she leans on the tree. She can hear the voices of so many people, chatting away about nothing: the smurfs, Studio Gibli, what someone's cooking for dinner… it could go on and on, but Karin is beyond that. She touches their world for only a second before returning to her own.

She waits.

While she waits, Karin sketches.

And sooner or later, she falls asleep.

* * *

Momo wants to believe him. She does. But she also knows that now isn't the time to push it, and so she lets it go.

"Alright. You can be wistful all you like, but there are two important things I want you to remember, okay?"

"The first is that I can always count on you, no matter how bad it gets." Toushirou recites, teasing her, and enjoying her apple cheeks turn crimson. He helps her off the table, lifting her off her feet, and Momo uses this to hug him. Honestly, he should have expected this. But it takes him by surprise, although he _does_ hug her back. Because she won't let go otherwise, and truth be told, Toushirou likes Momo's hugs. They're special, in a platonic sort of way. "Right?"

"Right. Great guess." Momo smiles, and checks her watch. They've still got a few minutes before their break is over. "The second, while not as important as the first, is still pretty important. You _can't_ have your head in the clouds, bear. Not here, unless you want to want to get fired." Her eyes flit to the side, and she considers it slowly. "… do you want to get fired?"

"No, of course not."

"Then _don't_ be so… inattentive!" Frustrated because of him, Momo sighs, and swivels on her feet, pirouetting like a dancer, always perfect in her balance. "I'm trying to look out for you – the least you could is give a smile to the customers."

"Ah, but you know I don't like to smile."

"_Try."_

"…"

"… maybe you should practise a bit? _There,_ that's the smile I love to see – now show it to the whole world!"

* * *

"Typical." Ulquiorra's voice wakes her up, with the help of a slight shake of the shoulders. She can detect amusement in his voice, and she grins in her return. "How many times is it now?"

Karin shrugs, she hasn't really counted. It's happened a few times, but the exact amount isn't something that she knows.

Flicking through her sketchbook, she picks up her fallen pencil and begins to write. _Hello, Ulquiorra. How are you and Nel?_

"We're fine. No different to before."

Blue eyes soften slightly, and it's times like this that she wishes she could speak. But she made a promise, and she intends to keep it. Ulquiorra respects her for this, hearing the sound of her voice only through laughter.

_And Nel?_ She thinks, flicking back on her sketchbook to her picture of the happy couple. She scribbles once more. _Is she…?_

He nods, jaw setting to the side. _Things are no different to before._

_She loves you._ Reaching out to touch his arm, Karin ends up giving him a hug instead. She knows what he feels for Nel, knows how unrequited his love feels, but… it's not true. It can't be. _She does. Even if she doesn't know how much._

"Thank you." Softly, whispering it in her ear, Ulquiorra murmurs, letting her hold him. He needs this—this moment.

For however long it lasts.

* * *

There's a face that he doesn't know that's appearing more frequently in her sketchbook.

Blue eyes. Stormy and cold and warm and kind. The emotion changes with every sketch she makes of him. A mouth that's almost in a constant frown, leaning to the side. He wonders who he is. The new man in her life. Unless—

"Karin," Ulquiorra Schiffer asks suddenly, noticing her tense up, as if she knows what he's about to ask. "What's his name?"

Her cheeks redden slightly, eyes darkening into something an emotion that he's almost caught looking at his own reflection. She's built herself into silence for so long that he already knows how to read the signs.

She shakes her head, hair whipping about, black tresses smooth like silk lines drawing the separation between them. _No._

"Does he know that you exist?" Ulquiorra asks quietly, staring into her dark blue eyes, holding an ocean of words inside them.

Her eyes shift down and there's a slight blush unfurling on her cheeks.

_No._ Karin mouths, shaking her head. _He doesn't._


	8. Part VIII

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o8._

* * *

"Hisana-chan! Over here!"

There's a grin laced on Nel's face, reaching her blue eyes, as she scours the crowd for her friend—finally found _at last._ With a bounce in her boots, she hugs her.

"Where have you _been?_ I've already started on my sundae." Arms cross her chest, as Nel mock huffs, teasingly looking annoyed.

Heat spreads over her cheeks, in complete embarrassment. "Sorry." An apologetic smile touches the corner of her cheeks. A little pensively, and in a softer voice, Hisana _does_ remind her blue-haired friend. "I told you – I missed the train." Disengaged from the embrace, the two settle into their comfy chair. Moments later, and Hisana's favourite sundae ice cream is ordered as well. "Did I miss anything?"

"Nope! I just wanted to see you squirm." Nel grins, light-heartedly laughing. "I'm not mad, Hisana-chan. I just wanted to know – is everything alright?"

"Hm?" She blinks, her violet eyes wide. Fear catches in her throat, startling her into silence for a moment. "Whatever can you mean?"

"What are you hiding?" There's a slight smile that being brought to life, and an intrigued sparkle in Nel's eyes. She doesn't mean any harm in it, maybe, but there's still something that dips into concern. For all Nel's flamboyant mannerisms, there's a serious person underneath, and most people don't notice that. "… Souen Hisana?"

"Um—"

"I know, it's—"

"Waffles! And vanilla ice cream! Here you go!" The waitress grins, setting them on the table. "Sorry for the wait, our cook was daydreaming. But don't tell anyone, okay?" There's a cheeky smile, on her face, indigo eyes sparkling good-natured.

"You got it." Nel smiles. "Thank you very much!"

"Welcome." A quick smile flashes like a light bulb, before the waitress turns away, instantly caught into a different atmosphere. "Hey, _bear—_"

"So," Nel grins as she digs into the waffles, "where was I?"

"Playing interrogator, I think." A little puzzled, Hisana answers her. Blinks slowly, her eyes wide. "Why?"

"For fun." Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck shrugs, a wicked smile dancing on her mouth. "You should have seen your face, Hisana-chan. All pale, just from a bit of teasing. Sure you're alright?"

"Just a bit… stressed." Hisana manages to reply, through mouthfuls of her sundae. "Maths is a bit challenging at the moment. I'll be fine."

"Mm, maybe. But—if you ever need help, I have a friend who can help you. He's a bit scary, when you first see him, but he's perfectly lovely." Nel's eyes shimmer a little, an unconscious smile spreading like the sun spreading over the horizon, in a pretty pink hue. "Let me know, and I'll set things up."

"Sounds like you're a matchmaker to me." The raven haired girl murmurs, sighing a little wistfully. She's missed watching chick flicks, and imagining what the fuzzies truly feel like. Oh, she's had crushes, and she's had blushes, but never the fuzzies.

Nel's lips quirk. "Little romance never hurts anyone, Hisana-chan."

"Oh."

And maybe it's just something she doesn't even realize, but something changes in her friend's expression. For one moment, Hisana thinks of the man she met this morning—Byakuya—with his black hair and grey eyes and how she felt tiny in comparison. She doesn't hear herself sigh.

"So," Leaning forward eagerly, Nel cannot help herself. "Tell me about him."

"Who?" Innocently, she asks.

* * *

_Class starting in 20. Get going, wherever you are. US._

"One second, Hisana-chan. And you don't fool me – I'm your friend, I know that something's in the air." Nel raises her hand, shooting a meaningful look. Flips her phone open and begins to text. "It's Ulquiorra, always the sweetheart."

_Be there in a few. NTO._

"I don't get it." The smaller friend nibbles a waffle, daintily so.

_No you won't. Where are you? At the café? US._

"Get what?" Nel mumbles, pressing a few more buttons.

_Yep! With Hisana. And yes I will. NTO._

"How come you just don't give up on the other guy?"

_No, you won't. I've just spotted you, and I bet you haven't moved an inch. US._

"Damn you, Ulquiorra." Nel mutters with a half-grin. She looks up. "He says 'hi', Hisana."

"He wrote that?" Incredulous, she cannot resist a smile. She's always liked Ulquiorra, despite his aloof behaviour.

"No," Ulquiorra drolly says, giving the two ladies a start. "I didn't. But I intend to. Hello, Hisana."

"Hello, Ulquiorra-san." Brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, Souen Hisana smiles at him, because despite liking him, there's still a little part that's a bit scared of him, even though his interactions with his girlfriend shows that there's nothing to be afraid of. "Are you well?"

"Fine, as always. But, if you'll excuse us, we have a class to go to." Bluntly, he lifts an eyebrow, and with a pout, Nel stands up. "Goodbye, Hisana."

"Bye, Ulquiorra-san. Until next time." She might join them, if only for the fact that she hasn't finished her waffles. "Let's catch up soon, Nel-chan."

"Got it! Later, Hisana." Nel waves, before murmuring something incoherent to her boyfriend, which only serves to roll his emerald eyes. "I promise next time that this _ninja_ will not swoop in."

"This ninja is saving the day." Ulquiorra mutters, and Nelliel only throws her head back and laughs.

"If you say so."

* * *

There is a shatter of plates, audible as the two green eyed beauties leave the café.

And a very loud shout.

"It – is – not – _bear! _Not – from_ – you – Renji!_"

* * *

She steals a kiss when she thinks no one's looking, and his grip only tightens his hold on her.

"You, Ulquiorra, are in a mischievous mood." Her breath is warm against his skin. And he can feel her addictive grin on the crook of her shoulder.

"I'm afraid that comes with being in the presence of Karin. She always did know how to make me smile." Easily, he says, missing the flicker of jealousy in her eyes.

"And me?"

"You, Nel, are a very different case." His mouth hovers above hers, and for a second, he thinks about blowing her a kiss, inhaled by her parted lips. "You can do extraordinary things." Unable to help himself, he whispers something in her ears.

Nel blushes, grinning her heart out, and twisting her hips against his.

"Keep talking like that, and I'm sure we can find an empty classroom somewhere in this building."


	9. Part IX

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_o9._

* * *

She finds it strange that Nel-chan thinks that there's a guy.

There isn't.

Not yet.

After all—Byakuya is a stranger.

She doesn't know him.

_Yet._

* * *

It is with sad regret that the process has begun.

And soon, he fears he will break.

Shoulders slump – that's the first sign. Then there's a sigh – the second. Then the head 'slips' onto the desk – the third. Hands cradle the then bruised face, smothered in blood and whatnot—the nose is easily breakable, one must suppose – and know that this is the fourth. The fifth and final sign is the muffled voice, grating cheese with its sheer annoyingness.

"Bya-kun."

"…" He tries to distract himself by organizing his desk.

"Bya-_kun._"

"…" Must… move… _pencil._

"Hey, Bya-bo!" And a rubber hits his forehead.

"_What._ Is. It. Shinji?" This is it – if it's anything at all: Kuchiki Byakuya's breaking point. He will not shout, he will not roar, he will merely grit his teeth and stay as stoic as he possibly can with the telepathic effort of slowly eradicating Hirako Shinji's childish mind.

"Got your attention, finally." The blonde mumbles, with a hidden grin that would mean certain death if revealed.

"Only if you stop calling me…" There's something akin to vomit in his mouth. "… 'Bya-bo.'"

"Would you prefer 'Bya-kun'?" Unable to resist, a leer slides over his face. To be fair, Byakuya walked into that.

"I'd prefer if you simply called me _Byakuya._" Stating simply, part of him wished that he didn't know Shinji so well.

"But you didn't mind when I called you Bya-kun _before_." Pettily, Shinji replies instantly, a little pout on his lips.

And then there's _this_! This is the _exact_ reason why Byakuya wishes that Shinji wasn't such a close friend as he was. He kept bringing up the past, twisting it so it seemed that they were something… _more_ than childhood friends. But, Byakuya will dismiss these rumours, and truly, it is none of anybody's business to pry into their lives.

"That was _before_, not now, Shinji." He'll state this once—and only once. And then Shinji will 'forget', as he so often does. And then Byakuya will 'remind' him. And then the cycle will continue, as it always has. "Must I tell you this again?"

"Only as long as I suffer. Our pact, remember?" A rue smirk twitches on his face, the two lawyer students.

_Damn that pact._

"I have no idea what you're referring to." Byakuya denies, now moving the rubber to join the pencil. He does not meet Shinji's eyes.

"Oh, I think you do." Shinji leans forward on his separate desk, revelling in this moment far more than he should. The problem is, he's been in this mood far too often recently, sadistically taking it on people related and unrelated to him. "Bya-kun."

"If I did," The raven haired smoothly says, "would you allow me to know what it is that's causing you to instil the pact, at this particular moment?"

"Perhaps." Blue eyes gleam, playful once more.

"Name your price." The heir to the Kuchiki's sighs, reluctantly accepting that he must barter to make this work. All in the name of being a lawyer, of course and acting completely unlike lawyers and more like hagglers.

"Skip next lesson with me."

"I refuse." That's something he won't do. He'll amend it. "I'll help you with work."

Shinji's nose crinkles. "I don't need help."

"Then _what_ do you need?" Not missing a beat, Byakuya replies.

"Coffee." Automatically Shinji says.

"I'll buy it. And you'll tell me, right?" This feels too much like bribery, if Kuchiki Byakuya is being honest.

"Right." A happy grin slides over his face, and the dark haired man cannot help but be suspicious.

Sounds like this is what Shinji wanted all along.

Free coffee.

_Damn his manipulations._

* * *

"Hiyori's back." He says, trying to act nonchalantly.

"Your ex-wife… is there a reason?" He can't help but raise an eyebrow.

"None that I know of." The blonde shrugs. "If there is, she'll tell me soon enough. Or, I'll find out sooner or later."

"Where is she living?" That's the next logical question to ask. He's seen this before, and Byakuya is damned if he isn't a bit wary of the whole situation.

"…" He purses his jaw, setting it to the side.

"Shinji." He only needs to be pressed lightly, because his friend wants to tell him anyhow.

"… in my apartment." Blue eyes flutter shut, thinking about it. Already he knows that it's not a good idea. He knew it at the time—he _must_ have—and he knows it now. "I was stupid—but—it's Hiyori. She has a way of… persuasion."

_Persuasion_. Yes. Some could call it _that_. But only a few.

"I see."

"No." His blonde mop of hair shakes, distastefully unkempt. Byakuya makes a note of handing him a comb later. "No, you _don't_ see, Byakuya. I can't explain it to you, but—it's Hiyori. It's _always_ Hiyori—and I can never say no."

There's silence, like acid, like bleach, and it's eating away the composure that Shinji wears as his normal façade.

And both of them hear the bitterness in his voice. "Not to her."

* * *

Byakuya knows the symptoms – all the signs that show Shinji in love with an impossible woman with an impossible heart. He knows the ups and downs, the highs and lows. He's seen them all before. And in hindsight, he should have known.

Really should have known.

Because Shinji's right: it's Sarugaki Hiyori. There's no one quite like her, not before, not now, not after.

So he asks his childhood friend bluntly, because there's no finer way to put it.

"Are you in love with her?"

* * *

It's completely unintentional—it happens by accident.

Hisana crashes into a red-haired waiter, who has a little bit of a fiery mouth and a laugh that's a little bit too loud. He shrugs and says that it's alright—he can blame it on the cook. It's happened before. But he looks her, startled and shaken—like there's a little bit of moon dust in her eyes that nobody's seen before—and then he pushes her off, towards the direction of the exit.

Maybe she makes the mistake of looking back – because she remembers his wide smile long after that.

When she goes home, she appears to have his number.

His name is Renji_._


	10. Part X

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_1o._

* * *

Another day, another morning.

Frankly, Shinji's glad it's the weekend.

Sleep evades him, because it's those words – _are you in love with her?_ – looping round his head, like a broken recording, repeating those words until the moment he goes mad.

_Are you in love with her?_ Byakuya had asked.

And he just couldn't reply.

He used to be.

He did.

And at some point, he stopped. He must have done.

But he can't pinpoint the when. Can't pinpoint the why, and he doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing.

_Are you in love with her?_

Staring at the red grapefruit in front of him isn't going to give him any answers.

He hates how the fruit reminds him of her – red and yellow, sour and sweet, it brings a sharp taste to his tongue and yet he can't stop eating them. It's like a bad addiction, not quite cognitive dissonance, but _something _like it.

The question stuns him, and the only thing he can mumble, smile faltering and shattering—highly embarrassed because _this never happens_ is—

_I don't know._

* * *

Something's different.

Something's changed.

Or maybe it's been there all along, and Shinji hasn't realized it.

It's nearly been a month, but things are static between them.

… it still doesn't explain why he's knocking on the bathroom door.

(He thinks he can hear her vomit, and he's worried, dammit.)

So he knocks. Tries to strain his ears, and when that fails, he speaks, void of any teasing, void of mocking, void of anything save muted concern.

"Hiyori. Open the door."

But she doesn't.

"Hiyori!"

This is his house! She shouldn't… she shouldn't treat it like it's hers as well, but… he lets her anyway. He doesn't know why, but it's just the thing to do. She used to own it too.

"Are you alright?" Quietly, these words are said, but his ex-wife doesn't seem to hear him on the other side.

So he waits.

* * *

She doesn't want to answer him. Not if she can help it. But she can't _stay_ in the bathroom forever, and so the blonde midget wipes her mouth and flushes the toilet. She wants to blame it on the food he buys—but that's not the case anymore, since she decided to food-shop for him instead. Shinji's still the cook, even though she's got her fair share of culinary talent. She's lived without him, so really, it's not a problem. But she forgets how fun it is to taunt him, and so, Shinji cooks and she taunts and he snaps back and she retorts and together they have a hell of a time.

The mirror shows a lie, Hiyori thinks. Give it another month, and she won't be the same.

Oh, it might take _another_ month, but she's on her way. No doubt about it.

She won't be able to hide it anymore.

Honestly, it's a miracle she's been able to hide it thus far. But Shinji's always out, and so he never notices.

But when she opens the door, fingers raking through straw hair that's she's going to have to wash later, Shinji still hasn't gone away.

… he's finally noticed.

And she just can't blame it on the food, tongue-tied because of the stupid look on his face.

* * *

Her hand flitters to her stomach unconsciously.

Shinji catches it.

He blinks, mouth opening with no words coming out.

_Oh._

And there's an ache that almost screams betrayal on the dark side of the moon but neither of them can hear it, because Shinji's walking backwards to find another slice of grapefruit he can sink his teeth into.

* * *

It's not his.

He knows that much.

But it still hurts to know that Hiyori – ex-wife, ex-girlfriend – is pregnant.

* * *

He must have fallen out of love with her.

But he can't quite recall _how. _


	11. Part XI

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_11._

* * *

So.

This is how it happens.

This is how they meet.

And she's fast asleep, unconsciously using him as her pillow. He's sitting beside her awkwardly, unsure whether to actually wake her up, or simply let her stay, resting on his shoulder. His fingers drum absentmindedly on his thighs while he debates this.

It's been one—two—five—ten minutes now.

And she stirs, eyes opening slowly, and it's strange – almost like watching chrysalis happening before him. Sleepy eyes glisten and become attentive, dark blue irises lightening into a pretty shade of cobalt—and then widening in… embarrassment? Her cheeks brighten, reminding him of roses and wine. Her lips move soundlessly, and he can only stare – unable to interpret it.

"… what?"

She looks out of the window, checking the stop they're at. Exhales, relieved that it isn't hers—or that she hasn't missed her station yet. Shoulders sink, and her movement flows like water, as she rifles through her rucksack to find something. Fishing pen and paper out with a slight tilt of her lips, she gives him a wider smile, half-apologetic, half-mysterious.

_Sorry._ Her handwriting says, ink on the paper, her nudge forcing him to read it, aware that her eyes rest on him. _Didn't mean to sleep on you._

"…" If he's being honest, he's taken off guard for a brief second. "Um…" Toushirou shrugs, trying to act casual, and wondering what the Hell to say to her. "It's okay. It's late – it can happen."

It's just never happened to _him_ before…

_Do you normally take the train?_ Her pen hovers, and he's read the words before she's crossed it out, a squiggly straight line.

"I do actually, but not this carriage. But since I was in a rush, running a bit late, I just grabbed the first one I could get." He meets her eyes, and if he squints, there's still a bit of a blush on her face. "Didn't want to wait for the next train."

_That's kind of strategic of you._

"Well, being co-ordinated is nothing to be ashamed of." He says it rather proudly, and for a brief second, when her lips compress, he wonders if he _should_ say it in that tone.

_No, I guess not._ Her eyes say something a little different, but Toushirou cannot decipher it, gleaming in merriment. _Well, in any case, here's to hoping to see you again._

"This is your stop?" Looking out the window, the cerulean eyed boy returns to gazing at her.

The dark haired girl shakes her head, jet black tresses curled around her shoulder in a messy ponytail. _Not yet, but next. Anyway, this is Tokyo. There may be a chance that we'll meet again. If we do, I'd like it to be soon. You seem like a nice person._

"I'm a stranger." This is something Toushirou feels compelled to point out.

The girl shrugs. _I know but… I like you. Gut instinct. I think you could be my muse. Let's take a risk, and leave it at that._

"I don't—" She takes his hand and shakes it, while she leans in and kisses his cheek. Rendering him silent, it's that moment in which the train slows down, and the stranger leaves him, ripped out piece of paper forgotten.

She twirls away, saying goodbye with a quick smile.

_I like you. I think you could be my muse._

Hitsugaya Toushirou reads those two lines, over and over again until he reaches his stop.

Doesn't quite know what to make of it, and stuffs the paper in his pocket.

* * *

It's a coincidence—it's got to be.

Two days later, there's a ruckus that turns out beneficial to everyone.

Outside the café, a group of people busks – four guys and one girl dancing to a catchy melody that attracts customers and a crowd.

People clap and pay, and together, the music creates a good atmosphere.

It's catchy, the dancers are talented, uniformed and synchronised, and yen coins are being collected with every twist and lunge, head spin and clap.

Momo's dawdling—he couldn't care less, but Renji is snickering and that's usually a sign to get a move on, and so he approaches his friend to tell her to go back to work—ignoring the distraction.

But he notices in a blink of an eye.

The single girl surrounded by four boys.

And it's _her._

The girl on the train who slept on him for ten minutes before waking up and starting a conversation with him—who wrote with a sweet smile that he could her muse—and acted afterwards as if it was nothing.

She's giggling and leaning into one of the boy's shoulders – who has an afro hairstyle – and his arm has slid around her waist.

She doesn't notice him, the waiter gawping like an idiot, and _he_ doesn't notice that his best friend has been prodding for a few seconds.

"Work!" Momo says with determination, and Toushirou nods, mind still faraway.

"Only if you do." Quickly, he retorts.

And Momo is left to fume as Toushirou moves away to give a customer their ordered drinks.

* * *

He doesn't know her.

But he's heard how she laughs, and wonders why she doesn't talk except with a pad of pen and paper.

He thinks he'd like to hear the sound of her voice.


	12. Part XII

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_12._

* * *

"_Wait, they don't love you like I love you…"_

The radio sings softly in her ear, and with a moan, Nel wakes up, legs sprawled against his with their mattress fumbled up between them. Her head is furrowed in his chest, able to hear his heartbeat, as her splayed out green hair is absentmindedly twirled round his fingers.

"Finally awake, are you?" His chest vibrates, and Nel can't help but smile in his direction, face still hidden. But he can feel her smile, and that's enough for him.

"… were you watching me sleep?" Lifting her head up, a blush sort of spreads across her face like fire catching through a field of wheat, and Nel can't quite decipher what she's feeling at the moment. It's a little bit of embarrassment, a little bit of pleasure, and a little bit of teasing, yet there's a little bit of something else too.

"And if I was?" Ulquiorra arches his eyebrow, and Nel suppresses a shiver of delight running through her. "Is it a crime?"

"Nope!" Still straddling him, she pushes against him, hands touching his flesh, and kisses his mouth chastely, and smiles as she pulls away. "Not if it's you."

There's no one else, but she knows she has a way of saying _just_ the right words.

"When's class starting?" It's a habit, constantly forgetting and constantly reminded. But it's their habit, and she likes that. It's wonderful. It's comfortable. It's him, it's her, and it's how it's always been.

"After lunch." He bites her ear, in a perfectly innocent fashion that makes her toes curl. "We've got all the time in the world."

Her voice is huskier than she expects, but it works to her advantage. "Oh really? Then I suppose… you wouldn't mind joining me in the shower?"

A soft kiss pressed against the crook of her neck. "Not at all, milady."

The both of them giggle—well, _she _giggles, _he_ chuckles—and his hand has already found hers, she's in his arms, and Ulquiorra is carrying her off to the bathroom.

* * *

_How come you don't give up on the other guy?_

The first-year Souen Hisana texts her later.

_You never gave me your answer. SH._

Truth is, Nel doesn't know. She didn't answer the question because like a ninja, Ulquiorra swooped in, effectively cutting the conversation short. If she had answered—or tried to—would she have been able to?

The green-haired beauty doesn't know.

* * *

It's not—not like she _hasn't_ considered it before.

There are moments that she thinks _yes._

And there are moments that she thinks _no._

And then—there are moments when all she can think about is—

"Grimmjow-kun!"

* * *

It's a boy, and a girl and a different kind of love story.

And there's another boy that no one sees, left behind and forgotten on the sidelines, bite marks corroding his pale ashen skin.


	13. Part XIII

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_13._

* * *

Hiyori's back. And living in Shinji's apartment.

In all honesty, he can't say he's surprised.

But he won't lie and say he _isn't _hurt that he wasn't informed of this sooner.

He's their best friend – the ones they constantly mocked and he sarcastically retorted back at. Oh, it took time, Byakuya knows, to find his own repartee, but the second he found it, _that_ was the moment where that insufferable smirk was wiped off Shinji's face. It is one of Kuchiki Byakuya's prized moments in his life.

Seeing Shinji speechless is something to be treasured, because it doesn't happen often.

Unless it's a sparring verbal match against his loving 'enemy', the third in their trio. They take turns, always intentional, and vindictively plotting the other's demise. And in the meantime, it's a battle of wits that occasionally turns physical. It used to be slaps, then kisses, and now, it's not so hard to believe that it's resorted to slaps again.

Still.

Kuchiki Byakuya has his hopes – or rather, is fairly accustomed to this.

He's quite certain that the slaps will turn to kisses once more.

Sarugaki Hiyori and Hirako Shinji have a strange and feral love affair after all.

It'll work out.

* * *

Souen Hisana has reached her limit.

No, she _hasn't _reached her limit… she's just stuck.

A bit.

"_I knew you'd call!"_ Nel Tu Odelschwanck giggles, on the other side of the phone. _"Well, no, I didn't. But it's always nice to see how my protégé is doing? How are you?"_

"… stuck." Hisana admits, then quickly adds. "A little."

"_Math?"_ The tone is probably sympathetic because the green-haired friend never was a fan of that subject. Made her head confuzzled, Hisana distinctly remembered those words. Although she didn't know what confuzzled meant. That may have the point.

"Math." Hisana confirms, nodding. So Nel can't see her – that doesn't mean that she can't nod.

And she hears laughter.

"_You, Hisa-chan, are in luck. I have just the person to help you. And he's standing just beside me."_ Then Nel murmurs something, unintelligible banter with a throaty guffaw. _"He says he'll do it."_

"… for free?" Finding food in the fridge, she looks for her favourite snack… which hasn't been supplied. Damn. This means shopping.

"_Don't give him ideas. He's a greedy guy, and I think you could be the one to be a good influence on him."_

"And you're not?" Hisana lifts an eyebrow, entertained.

"_Ah, well, he's the one who corrupted me, you see. I'm not as much as a saint as you are."_

"Oh."

"_Not like that you moron!" _And over the static, Hisana is quite certain that she heard a fist meet the face. Or something similar to that effect. Interestingly, Nel's voice has risen into a squeal. _"Didn't I tell you that Ulquiorra is my one and only?"_

"… Nel?"

"… _sorry, talking to the guy. Hold on."_ It's almost a rushed out words, from what Hisana can make out. All likelihood shows that Nel is embarrassed, and red-faced. She can still hear laughter, the same, throaty like before. _"Now that we've got that established, the flirt, would you like to talk to him?"_

"A name first." Hisana intones, brushing a strand of raven hair over her eyes. Wonders what she should make for dinner.

And part of her wants it to be Byakuya—a chance of fate that she'd gladly welcome. But he's a law student; she reminds herself, reality crushing that ridiculous thought, why would he teach her math?

"_Right. He's Grimmjow Jaggerjack. I'm sure you'll be the best of friends. Here ya go!"_ And the phone is awkwardly handed over, with Hisana having not a clue with what to say next.

"… hi." Eventually deciding, the violet-eyed twenty year old settles for this. "I'm Souen Hisana."

"_Grimmjow Jaggerjack."_ The gruff male voice responds. _"So, you do math, and you need help?"_

"Pretty much." Nel simply nods. Clearly, he's summed things up nicely. "Think you're up for it?"

"_What am I not up for?"_ And there goes that whacking sound.

"_Behave!"_ Nel all but shrieks—in his ear, she imagines, on the other side. _"Hisana-chan is nice!"_

"_Daft woman. I wasn't—"_

"_Oh, you weren't? I've known you since high school, Grimmjow-kun; I think I know what you mean!"_

"… _reading too much into it, I swear." _Grumbling, the two seem unaware that Hisana is still on the other side of the phone, and listening to every word. _"Anyways, Souen, right? We can discuss the basics, later right?"_

"Yeah, of course. I'll ask Nel-chan for your number."

"_Whatever you want."_ He's not listening to her, and Nel is laughing at something.

"Nice meeting you." Weakly finishing, in her opinion, she barely hears the _likewise _before she hangs up.

Right. So, that makes it two things she needs to go get.

Food, and a new book.

* * *

Kuchiki Byakuya has decided to get a housewarming present.

For the delightful reunion of Shinji and Hiyori.

It's just a matter of time before it happens, and Byakuya likes to be prepared. This is why he shall practise his 'prepared surprised face'. It's important, apparently. His father advocated it constantly, and Byakuya, though deeming his father an idiot, has respectfully decided to attempt it, before banishing the 'surprised face'.

But first—a stop, a present for his clone—_he means_ _cousin._

Shinji has a horrible habit of influencing his thoughts.

The phone rings.

Speak of the devil.

"Hello, Kuchiki Byakuya speaking." Automatically, he says.

"_You sound like an answering machine, Bya-kun."_ His blond acquaintance quips. _"You need to work on that."_

"I'm not taking lessons from you." Stoutly, Byakuya says, wholly determined to never break that.

"_Well, no. You wouldn't. You're a terrible student."_

"Evidently, I'm better than you. With higher grades." Insistent, he points out. Grey eyes darken, he is a closet competitive person, and Shinji is one of the few who knows this. Shinji is also one of the few who try and prevent this competitive side from emerging.

"_Alright. Chill. Grade-wise, yes, you have that as your proof. But vocally, Bya-kun? You've got less emotion than a robot. And robots are monotone! You're worse than that!"_

"At least I have a soul." He mutters, in an even voice. He will not rage. He will not fume. He will simply throttle Shinji's neck. "Unlike you."

"_Comes with the territory. You always did like to cry wolf."_

"You _cheated countless times!"_ And _that_ makes his voice hitch, changing notes. Scanning the room, Byakuya sighs. Despite Shinji refusing him lessons, and likewise, it is Shinji who can make him react.

"_Yeah, well. Life."_

"That's your excuse for everything." His teeth clench, and part of Byakuya wants to dentist not to notice. As he has countless times before.

"_Settle down, Bya-kun. Life is a perfectly good excuse for everything. But hush! I came to update you on the situation."_

"… I came bearing gifts." Moodily, the words slip from his normally perfect restraint.

"_Well, I'm sure you can put it to use later. Scrap booking or something."_ And Shinji seems to misinterpret the sentence. But—if Shinji is overlooking this, then the budding relationship between the two volatile people is surely becoming worse. The constant smiler surely needs no prompts to continue. "_It's Hiyori."_

_Of course._ "I'm listening."

"… _she's… well… she's pregnant."_

* * *

And at that exact moment, Hisana taps him on the shoulder, book in hand.

He turns.

She smiles, glad. _I thought it was you._

He doesn't seem to return the sentiment.

… because there is a _very_ odd expression on his face.


	14. Part XIV

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_14._

* * *

Silence.

"Byakuya?" A little jarred, Shinji actually uses his best friend's full name. "You still there?"

"… _one moment, please."_ A brief murmur, no matter how much Shinji strains his ears, he can't make anything out. _"Shinji."_ And he's back. Perhaps the blond should clap or something, but sadly, Bya-kun beats him to it, speaking quickly. _"… could you repeat that?"_

"Sure." It's not it's going to change anything. "Hiyori is pregnant." It doesn't change a thing, but it still makes him feel like he's swallowed poison.

"_Yours?"_ It's a logical thing to ask, Byakuya thinks predictably.

And his mouth twists, no longer the smile that so many people see. Eyes close, pressed against the window. Even _that_—cold and transparent, stained with the rain from last night—doesn't feel real. But he steadies himself against it. "Don't be stupid. It's been two years. I hadn't seen her since."

Wants to say more, but there's too much of an ache.

It feels like betrayal, though Shinji doesn't dare find out why.

"_Oh."_

"Yeah. Just wanted to keep you updated. You know, on things. I swear you're my psychiatrist sometimes."

The mumbled answer is somewhat blurred by the static. _"I prefer the term 'best friend'."_

"I should have known. You would." Shinji snipes back, mood lifted once he mocked the sappiness of it. "Any advice?"

"_Don't throw her out."_ Kuchiki Byakuya sagely says.

"Never intended to, darling." Dryly, his eyes open once more, and he suppresses a yawn. "Bye now."

He hangs up before he can hear his friend return the sentiment.

* * *

Throw her out?

What kind of advice was _that?_

_Especially_ since he'd never considered it anyway.

His ex-wife could stay as long as she damn well liked.

Well… for a while longer, in any case.

He knows they'll probably part ways one day.

* * *

… except that Hirako Shinji can now see Hiyori emptying her closet at this very moment.

"Where are you going?" Trying to mask his shock into feigned nonchalance, just bordering on curiosity, he leans 'casually' on the door frame. Yes, he's 'casual'. He's fine. _Fine_. His head tilts to the side, to prove his 'casualness', and he watches her still form, her back towards him.

She doesn't seem to notice him, pausing for a second, before continuing.

Then she stops.

She doesn't face him.

"Away."

"Hiyori…" Softly speaking, he tries another approach. "You can stay, if you want."

"Really?" Cold, her cutting voice pierces him. Her hair is down, and it suits her. He likes it. Shinji remembers a time when he played with her pigtails, never really loose. Her temper may have been, but her hair was always tied back, usually a pigtail, sometimes a ponytail, sometimes scraped back, and sometimes messily tied. "You weren't going to just leave the door open? I can take a hint, you know."

_I know when I'm not wanted._

"No—that was just—I needed to—I needed some space. Just surprised. Wouldn't have taken you for being… being _pregnant—_" Hiyori can't see him flinch. But Shinji can see her flinch. Yet he continues nonetheless. "—so soon."

"Why?" Her head arches back scornfully, golden globes blazing. "I married _you_ when I was even younger."

"That was because, dearest divorcee, I wanted to get laid." He shoots back, losing his kindness in exchange of a flare of his temper.

"You could have dumped me." Hiyori scowls, fangs showing. "If you wanted _that_ so badly."

"Pfft." He snorts, actually amused, so derisive of her response. "You think I wanted _anyone else?_ Oh, Dracula dear, I only wanted _you_." She freezes, because the truth hurts, lingering under her skin. As does that nickname, used so long ago. "It was you who said _yes._"

"Not at first." The petite blonde points out, trying to hide her flush which is spreading rapidly across her face. He only mistakes it for anger. And for most part, it is.

"But still," Shinji reminds her, "Hiyori, you said yes."

"Greatest mistake of my life, that." Coolly, she says, eyes flashing and face hardening. She knows _that_ will hurt.

"You sure?" Scathingly, he retorts. "I thought leaving me was."

What comes next… well, it's not as if he _didn't _see it coming. Subconsciously, at the very least.

* * *

Trust her to leap to the wrong conclusions. Hiyori sets her mouth into a frown, rummaging the fridge, towel on the side.

She just thought—that he'd turn her away, after knowing. She's a pregnant ex-wife, at his doorstep, why would he let her in?

Yet he had, even when he had no reason to.

He'd asked her, a few weeks back, why she came here.

And she'd given him some crummy answer that must have been partly true.

But in truth—this was one of the few places that felt like home.

The last ice cube lands on the towel, and she wraps it up into a neat package. Oh, never will it be as neat as Shinji's freaking house before she moved in and made it a little less disorganized, but it's the best she can do.

It'll do its job; that's enough.

"Here." Pushing the ice wrapped in a towel towards him, Hiyori watches it slide across the table. Watches her ex-husband pick it up and cradle it against his cheek. "You're such an idiot." She sighs, rolling her eyes and folding her arms.

"Blame that provocative face of yours." He mutters, light-hearted, the malice only teasing this time. "It's gotten me in trouble plenty of times before."

She doesn't comment, but thinks _don't I know it._ It won't show on her face.

Neither of them say anything for a while, but she's still aware of his eyes on her.

"Stop it, Shinji." Tersely, she snaps, breaking the silence first.

"Who's the father?" There's no jealous, and she quenches that small burst of emotion that had actually _hoped_—there's only pure curiosity.

"You don't know him." Gold meets grey. She wants him to stop asking.

"Does that matter?" Shinji still persists.

"It doesn't mean I'll tell you." Flatly stating, Hiyori begins to play with her hair.

"How long did you know him?" It's not jealousy. It's not.

"One night, and then he was gone. Kind of cute, but you're not asking that." Shrugging, Hiyori relents and give him this information. It's vague, and all he's going to get.

"That's not like you."

"No, it's not. But I never was the same, after you."

She stands up, ready to go back to her bags.

Reaching the doorway, it's at that point that the lanky blond decides to speak.

"Hiyori, stay as long as you like." Shinji decides with finality. He'd feel bad if he knew that she was alone—especially since she came to him. "But, get out of the house once in a while. And… say hello to Bya-bo."

"Alright." Relenting, she turns back, and nods. There must be something like gratitude written on her face, because Shinji looks so vulnerable.

* * *

"Hiyori, have you gone to the hospital yet?" Quietly, the question comes to mind.

"No."

"Do you…" He's not used to this. He doesn't know what he's doing. But for Hiyori—he's willing to try—even if it means that he's acting like a fool. "… want me to go with you?"

She looks at him, hateful, disdainful. Then she rolls her eyes, grabs a coat, and sighs.

"Let's go."

It's the closest he's going to get to a _yes_.


	15. Part XV

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_15._

* * *

One more song, Karin lifts a finger, signalling to Donny. One more song and dance before the five of them take a break and move their busking somewhere else.

Donny nods; his afro more frazzled than usual, and gives Ryouhei a _look, _snapping his fingers.

She's the boss after all, their leader. Before in the world of soccer, and now in the world of dance.

They're damned if they won't make money out of being entertaining superstars.

And the music fills the air once more: the five of them synchronized to _teenage dream,_ having the time of their life, spinning and leaping into the air. They circle and shake their hips; and they arch like two pillars supporting each other, another moment and they hold their arms, poised.

Pinta vaults over Kazuya, and the end, holding hands and contorting in entwined shapes.

They bow once more, and for fun, Karin jumps onto Ryouhei's back.

"Dammit, Karin, I wish you'd _tell_ me when you want a piggy back ride." He grumbles, while Karin only presses a kiss on his ear, sloppily missing his cheek.

"Yeah, well, we only have to wait a little longer." Pinta shrugs, helping Donny pick up the pieces. "How long now?"

Grinning, the raven haired girl lifts two fingers.

"Would that be days?" She shakes her head. "Or weeks?" And there, she nods. "Cool."

"I wish you'd talk _now._" Ryouhei mumbles in a low voice, so only Kurosaki Karin can hear him. She only gives him a hug in response.

* * *

She's been silent for nearly six months.

This is how she has decided to mourn.

* * *

"Tell me about this Souen Hisana, Nel." Momo places their ordered drinks at their table, and clears her throat. At last, one of them looks up, and gives a smile, and the payment too.

"Have a nice day." The brunette grins, before skipping away.

And stops.

Sighing, Momo strides to where Toushirou is, lurking in the dark abyss of the kitchen, where Renji has just left him. Fuming, no doubt.

Except—he's staring.

Curious, Momo follows his line of sight—a group of four, and one other, sitting on two tables. Four boys and a girl. Huh.

He's so distracted by this, that he doesn't notice Momo sneak up beside him and say:

"Is she really that pretty, Shirou-chan, that she makes you skip work?"

Startled, Hitsugaya Toushirou jumps, jolting from the shock.

Amused from the sight, Hinamori Momo laughs, sides splitting. "Aw, you're much cuter, I swear."

He frowns. As he always does. "It's not funny, Momo."

"Oh, but it _is._" Resuming to her original topic, the petite brunette finds the willpower to stop laughing. It's actually challenging, because she hasn't seen a side like this before. Of course, scaring the wits out of this white-haired man is _always_ hilarious. "Then again, you've always been amusing to me. Honestly, I just don't get why your cousin doesn't like you."

"It's the gap year, I assume." Toushirou darkly says. _Among other things._

"Kind of petty of him."

"He _is_ petty. He just doesn't show it that well." Shrugging, his glance only wavers once.

"Ah." Momo knows that only too well. But it's always interesting to hear her best friend speak about his cousin. He's petty too, though he'd never admit it.

Deciding to change the subject, Momo prompts: "So, are you going to talk to her or… just stare like a stalker?"

"Neither, I'm going back to work." Toushirou begins to move, but Momo isn't as quick to let it go.

"I don't think so. You've been skiving, all because of _her_, I assume. So, _go._ Talk to her. Be the person to make the first move. I'll take over your shift – or you can your break now. I miss movies that do that."

Incredulous, he raises his eyebrow. "… I'm not a movie, Momo."

"I know that. You know that." Momo shrugs, still as happy-go-lucky as before. "Doesn't mean I can't try to make it one." She gives him an encouraging push. "So, go on. Get her."

And if she's lucky, then maybe he'll get a date out of the whole thing.

So _Hitsugaya Toushirou: A Love Story_ can finally commence!

* * *

Karin sees him walking his way, and gestures for him to sit beside her. Can't help but smile.

He looks cute in a waiter's outfit.

Pen and paper already at hand, she scribbles something and folds it into an airplane to the people that were dancing with from before. Without a second glance, she scribbles something and shows it to her.

_Hello again. Nice to meet you, Toushirou. I didn't know you worked here._

"Well, I didn't know you were a dancer." He shrugs. Looks down, and realizes that she knows his name because of the name tag. "Hello, stranger."

_Name's Karin. Kurosaki Karin._

"Karin." Tentatively tasting the name on his lips, the girl nods approvingly, dark eyes glittering like a cat. There's a rosy sheen draped across her cheeks, and he's charmed and fascinated for some reason. "I like it."

She grins, definitely more heartily; judging by the way it reaches her eyes and makes her cheeks dimple.

_Wish I could say the same. It is a very nice name though._

He only frowns slightly, finding her odd. "Thank you."

_Welcome._ She laughs lightly, and he hears her sigh.

"How come you don't talk?"

She gives him a curious glance, head tilting, raven locks fluttering around her shoulders as she sips on her lemonade.

_I have my reasons._

"Can you talk?" Slowly, he asks, and waits for her to write _yes_ or _no_.Instead, she saves paper by nodding her pretty head. "Then could you tell—uh, write why?"

_I suppose I could tell you a few. I wanted to try something new. I wanted view the world in a different way. I wanted to exist without using words._

"Hence why you can laugh." Toushirou murmurs. Because laughter is _sound_, not so much as word voiced by others.

_You should try it. _Karin says, pushing the piece of paper towards him.

"… they'd think me strange." He shakes his head, not really interested in it.

_My friends are fine with it. It's been nearly six months. And, after two more weeks, I promised to talk again._

"Promised who?" Carefully, the white haired waiter says, watching her expression carefully. He noticed her throat tighten, lips purse, and he wondered what else did she do? What was she like, beyond this second meeting?

_Myself. I suppose. At the beginning, I chose six months. And I haven't broken it, though it definitely took some work._

"I'll bet." He nods, looking at her in admiration. It must have been a challenge.

She smiles and looks at him, and he's reminded of her offering him something, and it makes him prickle at the back of his throat.

"Why… did you want me to your muse?" This is something he can't comprehend. They're strangers. But maybe that's the reason.

All this time, she looks at him, something shining within her. Her mouth parts, glossy red. But they shut, and she focuses on her hands, focuses on her pen.

And she writes.

_Because I like you._

"But you don't even know me."

_I love you._

"Love and like aren't the same things, you know."

_There's a connection. And I want to know, what is about you – about my shallowness – that makes me feel like this. I only know your appearance. So tell me why I shouldn't love you._

"Now?" He looks to the side. Her friends are gone. _When did that happen?_ "Um…"

She's charmed, smiling a little nostalgically. And he just can't look away.

_No, not now. If you don't want to. But let's make a deal._

"You're a stranger."

_But I know where you work._

"I could change jobs."

_Who says we won't find each other again? I am a busker, after all._

"That's creepy."

_From one perspective, yes. Some might call it coincidence. Or destiny, if you believe in that._

"Karin, what do you want?"

_You already know. I want you to be my muse._

"For how long?"

_Two weeks._

"Would you want me to be silent?"

_Why, interested?_

"I'd have to think about it."

_Then I'll give you my number, and you can text me, whenever you want._

"Even if it was after two weeks."

_Yeah, because I'd still be waiting._

"Why?"

_Well, why does someone fall in love?_

"No one falls in love with a stranger." Sceptically, he says.

_You've never believed in love at first sight? Or watched Sleepless in Seattle then?_

"Not me."

_Huh._ She shrugs. _Alright then. I think I know a lost cause when I see one. Let's leave it to chance, in case we meet again._

Karin stands up to go, and he watches her exit to her waiting friends. He hasn't noticed her leave her number on her napkin.

Yet her words aren't as quick to shake as her figure, and they pursue him for the rest of the day.

* * *

_Two weeks._

There's something mystical in that, though he doesn't know why.

In two weeks, a lot could happen.

Two weeks until he could hear her voice.

Two weeks until she could fall out of love.

Two weeks until he could fall in love.

Two weeks.

It's almost scary what a short length of time can do.


	16. Part XVI

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_16._

* * *

"So," Nel grins, twirling one finger through her hair, she asks Grimmjow Jaggerjack. Her smile is wide on her face, stretching almost cheekily. "You definitely think you can take me?"

The blue haired man scoffs, knuckles cracking. She hates it when he does that. "Duh."

"I don't know…" Teasing, she can't help but egg him on. It's for the greater good. _Maybe_.

"You're on!" He all but snarls, to the sound of her laughter.

With her dainty footsteps, and smaller size, she slips past him, and grabs the microphone before he has a chance. "Perhaps. But I call dibs for the first round!"

"Crazy." Grimmjow mutters, but he's not mad. He's just… biding him time.

Him. Her. Karaoke.

Somehow, it works out – and they have a good time.

* * *

Ulquiorra finds Karin pulling apart dandelion petals. She doesn't blow with precision or with a great big puff of air. Instead, she plucks blindly, in the way daisies are torn to shreds by children who like to ask the Question. It's technically cheating, the stoic man thinks. Like Eeny Meeny Miny Mo. _Cheating._

But then, he doesn't know _what_ Karin's Question is.

"Hello." Calmly, he says, sitting besides her, snorting silently when she doesn't react. She still has too more white petals to go through, and he won't spoil it and blow them away just because he's impatient.

_There._ And the last of the dandelion spore whirls aware with the faintest push of wind.

Karin looks up. _Hey,_ her smile says. _How are you?_ Already, her hands are digging through her pockets to find her notebook and pen, though she waits expectantly for his answer.

"I'm… good." He nods, satisfied with his response. Karin pulls a face, looks around. Ulquiorra rolls his green eyes. Of course she'd ask about that. His old neighbour has a knack for guessing what the problem is. That is, if he interpreted her correctly. He's never sure, after all, but she has a way of adapting. "Nel's with Grimmjow. I… ah, caught sight of them, as I left the building."

Karin mimes a spy glass. He knows this because she draws a circle in the air and uses her hand as a 'handle' to then look around.

The question might be _why didn't you follow them?_ Or, _why didn't you interrogate? Perfect timing._

"Not a stalker, Kurosaki." Dryly, he responds.

The spy glass is dropped, shattered to the ground as her hands flail. He must look puzzled, he certainly _feels _it. Rolling blue eyes, Karin digs into her pockets, fishing out her beloved two items. Honestly, Ulquiorra wonders how she can live off stationary.

_Still. You'd have more than just suspicions, if you had followed them. You'd have evidence._

"I couldn't do that." He shakes his head.

Her eyes darken, mouth furled into a frown. Her expression is one of mild incredulity. _I don't get it, Ulquiorra._ Pen on paper writes, neat against the lines. _You say she's in love with someone—_

"She is."

_Grimmjow?_ She gives him a distasteful look. _Come on._

"…"

_You'd think if she wanted to cheat on you, she'd choose someone better than Grimmjow._

"They're close." He shrugs.

_Aren't we?_ A meaningful glance, through her lidded eyes. _Are you just saying something just to make you feel miserable? That Nel, love of your life, is cheating on you—_

"It's not necessarily cheating, if it's emotional—" He cuts in quickly, before more of her words are revealed.

_Rubbish._ Clapping her hands in one loud and unexpected motion, it's almost like a slap to the face. Karin glowers at him. _If it's emotional, then it's even worse. It means something. Better for it to be meaningless, than to meaningful. Hurts either way, but one is far worse than the other._

His cheeks redden: and Ulquiorra can't find anything to respond to. Despondent, he watches her, feeling speechless.

Sighing, Karin rakes her black hair back, wind moving it into her face. _Okay. Let's try again._ She looks at him hopelessly, before turning a new, blank page.

* * *

"Told ya!" Nel sticks her tongue out, playfully. "I totally beat you."

"Babe, I _let_ you win." Grimmjow rolls his eyes.

"Sweet talk me all you like, Grimmjow-kun, but the facts are these: I have the better voice, and _you_ are a sore loser."

"Sore loser my _ass_." The blue haired demon scowls, tetchy. "You won, sure. I can admit that. This time. But these things are biased, you _must_ know that."

"Oh yeah?" Her smile becomes crooked, curiously delightful.

"Yeah." He couldn't be more confident in this belief.

"Then why didn't your so-called _sex appeal_ sway their minds?" Nel snickers, signalling for the bus to stop.

* * *

_How do you know she's not in love in you?_

_Why do you refuse to believe this?_

_If you believe that she's cheating on you, then why don't you break up with her?_

Ripping out the piece of paper Karin hands him it.

"Karin." Softly, Ulquiorra says. She can't hear him, too quiet.

_Go on._ She tries to get him to answer those questions. _Tell me what they mean to you. I've only heard your side, and maybe… that's all I need. But maybe you need to hear yourself too. _

"…"

_Alright, think on it._ Karin relents, shrugging. _Give it time. But—you have to answer those questions—one day. Either they're true, or they're false. But that all depends on you._

"You're in a strange mood." Ulquiorra comments, rolling his shoulders.

She nods, acknowledging this. _I met him, my muse. His name is Hitsugaya Toushirou._

"Muse?" Ulquiorra looks confused for a second, before remembering the pictures that she drew—something changing all the time. The hair, the eyes, the scowl—those remain the same. But the shapes and colours and the tiny layers of graphite upon graphite differ every time. "That boy?" Karin nods once more, and he snorts in disbelief. "What—Karin, _what_ are you doing?"

_Something._ Slowly, that word stains the paper black. _There must be something about him that drew me to him. I want to know what it is._

"Do you love him?" It's an odd question—but then, Karin is odd, in so many ways. The outside, yes, she looks calm and composed, slightly stoic, much like himself. But there's depth, snark, and a little bit of an otherworldliness about her. She's rollerblading on clouds, and sleeping on rainbows.

Hitsugaya Toushirou is a stranger: both of them know that. At least he knows that she exists now.

This is Kurosaki Karin, and as she lies down, she plays with the grass and mulls over his question. But even that, she lets it fly free.

_Yes, maybe._ Her nails, painted blue and red, hover, touching the paper before continuing; her expression, though thoughtful, is confused. _I love him in the way a person loves somebody they just met. You remember that motivational talk and you thought that's awesome. This person – he's awesome. You never meet him again, but you always have that—that respect for him. It's kind of like that, but… deeper._

_Maybe I fell in love. Superficially, at the very least. Was it his appearance? Or what he represents? I don't know._

_But—if you would have me compare to what you feel about Nel… then this is nothing. What you have is everything._

* * *

Grimmjow beats her effortlessly in paintball.

"You're good."

"Incredible, I think is the correct term." A little insufferably, he corrects her.

But damn—when they work together, they make a hell of a team.

And yet, it's nowhere as amazing as what she has with Ulquiorra.

"It was nice hanging out with you again." Nel smiles, as she waits for the next bus to take her to her apartment.

"Next time, we could invite Ulquiorra." Playfully, his eyes waggle. "_Ménage à trois?"_

And the thought actually makes her laugh. "Please, what happened to that façade where you two pretended that you hated each other?"

"_You_ happened, babe." And he leans in, millimetres away and smirking every second. "Like I'd really kiss ya, Nel."

"Grimmjow-kun!" Furious, she pushes him away, so very annoyed. "You can't do stuff like that!"

"Yeah, well. Worth a try." Nonchalantly shrugging, Grimmjow doesn't seem to care, and this is exactly _why_ Nel wants to give him a black eye most of the time. She doesn't mind him giving the offhand remark every now and then. But—seriously! "Oh, c'mon. I was freaking messing with you. I'm not _that_ stupid."

"…" Not quite ready to forgive him, Nel fixes her cold eyes on him. "So long as you're sure."

"You know I wouldn't, crazy." Electric blue eyes roll. "Like I said, countless of times, you're fun, but not quite what I'm looking for."

"Who do you say that to?" Her curiosity gets the better of her. "And, why?"

"'Cause people get the wrong idea about you an' me." The blue haired man laxly sits back on his chair. "Dunno why. But they're freaking _idiots._"

"Clearly." Nel agrees, just as she spots her bus. "See you around, and _don't_ forget about Souen Hisana!"

* * *

Ulquiorra buys a loaf of bread before he goes home.

Thinks he might feed the ducks the next time he goes to the park.

It might kill the birds, but he's being nice to them all the same.

There's logic to this: but it isn't as savage or murderous as people might assume.

He honestly does just want to feed the birds.

* * *

Nel's kiss tastes a little differently tonight, as she greets him.

"Hey," she mumbles; her arms around his waist already. "Missed you."

"Neliel." Ulquiorra murmurs her full name, the first in a while, and holds her close. He's surprised: he's much more relaxed and intimate with her around than without. He's never noticed that before.

"One more kiss?" Her eyes become puppy like, big and round and adorable and he's never been able to resist.

So, yes, he kisses her—and there it is again.

"Everything okay?" Eyes already hazy, Nel's leg slides over his thigh, she notices his hesitation, and stops her ministrations.

"Yeah," Ulquiorra says, mouth inexplicably dry. "Yes." He says with more conviction. "I'm fine." He whispers in her hair, as his breath becomes quicker by the second.

He finds what he's looking for.

Something that he's never noticed before.

Something that's always been there.


	17. Part XVII

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_17._

* * *

Rukia wants to know all the details.

"Don't leave me hanging," Rukia pleads with her eyes, hands resting on the fridge handles. Still in her pyjama bottoms, it's early morning, and Hisana tries to distract her by requesting the fruit juice. So far, it's not working. "Is he cute? Well, he must be, if you like him. _And_ a gentleman."

"Rukia!" Heat flushes through the older sibling's cheeks, thoroughly embarrassed. And Hisana tries to reprimand her younger sister. "Don't jump to conclusions."

"_Jump?_" Eyebrow arching, Rukia is unimpressed. Completely unfazed, though she may have been willing to let it go yesterday, the morning is another day. "What am I _supposed _to think? You come home, _late_ for dinner—"

"_You didn't even __**cook **__it!"_

"—red-faced—"

"It's cold outside!"

"—giggling—"

"Saw something funny!"

"—with a box of chocolates and a book—"

"For you!"

"—and not only that, but with _roses!_"

"Circumstantial!"

"_Lies."_

And a staring contest begins between the two sisters, waiting each other out. Rukia, the younger sibling, breaks the silence.

"There's totally a guy."

"Is not." Half-heartedly, Hisana tries to dissuade her sister.

"Hmm…" Sceptical, the fifteen year old girl places her hands on her hips and scrutinizes Hisana, who squirms a little uncomfortably. "Maybe not _yet._" The brunette concedes. "But there's definitely a guy."

Hisana's blush blossoms.

"See?" Exultant, Rukia sits down and pours milk into her cereal bowl. "There's a guy. C'mon, sis. Tell me his name."

"… Byakuya." Hisana says not reluctantly, with an extra radiant smile. "He's a law student. We've seen each other a few times, and yesterday, I ran into him."

"And?" Eager to know more, Rukia couldn't help but prompt. Hisana's never been interested in someone before.

"And he was on a phone call, and put me on hold."

"Oh."

"But he apologized afterwards, and gave the sweetest smile." He has a _very_ nice smile, Hisana thinks, but doesn't say. But knowing Rukia, she can already read it on her sister's face. "Then he helped me buy a book – _for you_ – and chocolates – 'cause I forgot to buy an Advent Calendar." Little does Hisana know that Rukia has already bought them and has kept them hidden away. It's always best to eat them on Christmas day, that's what the Souen sisters say. "Then we walked and talked. And that's about it."

"Well, what about the roses?" Rukia stows away the 'walking' and 'talking' for a little bit later, more curious about the roses at the moment.

"Um…"

"Spit it out, sis."

"… he… he just… felt like buying them."

"Really?"

"He told me."

* * *

"She _goaded_ you into buying a bouquet?" Hiyori cackles on the sofa, as she throws popcorn into Shinji's mouth without informing her blonde ex-husband. "_Kami,_ I've got to do that sometime."

"Stop that!" Shinji raises his hands in protest, and tries to lurch forward.

"Don't snatch popcorn out of a pregnant lady!" Hiyori snarls, using her food as retaliation.

_And, why oh why, did I go to you two for love advice?_

"Hiyori," Byakuya patiently explains, "it's not like that. She simply asked me if I had ever done anything spontaneous. So…"

"You just happened to walk by a flower shop?" Shinji lifts an eyebrow. "Talk about coincidence."

"No, it's not like that." Kuchiki Byakuya is so close to a face palm. So close. "I told her that I hadn't. Half an hour later, give or take, we found ourselves approaching a person selling flowers. I recalled that particular question among many and… bought them. For her." Odd. It's gotten a little bit here. Especially around his ears.

"Wow." In unison, the two blondes say, mouth agape. It's quite a comical sight that Byakuya can only smirk and move on.

"You utter romantic." Hiyori grins nastily, fangs poking out. She approves. "I guess love has finally had her way with you."

"Pity it wasn't you." Droll, Byakuya rolls his grey eyes, quipping. It's worth it, if only for the flush that both the shrewd divorce couple have. "Then again, broken teeth and black eyes aren't the Kuchiki way."

That was the Hirako way.

* * *

There is one thing that both of them are hiding from their confidents.

Chaste it may be, but nonetheless…

A kiss is a kiss.


	18. Part XVIII

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_18._

* * *

Shinji can't get over it.

He's tried to avoid mentioning it, but now, with the subject of flora, he can't resist.

"But—but why a _cactus?_"

Of all the house warming gifts to get in the world, _why_ would Byakuya buy a _cactus_ for them? When he bought a bouquet of roses for Souen Hisana-san.

"Ain't it obvious, Shinji?" Hiyori drawls, ochre eyes glaring in his direction. "This is what our friendship equates to him. A frickin' cactus."

"You gave me a jackrabbit." Byakuya deadpans. "Is that what I am to you?"

Shinji ignores this. It doesn't stop the Kuchiki from comprehending that the silence is in fact confirming his unanswered question. Byakuya bristles. He is neither fluffy, nor a 'bunny wabbit', as Hiyori mocking taunted him with for the rest of the year for his birthday. Privately, Byakuya has become rather fond of Daisuke.

Instead, Hirako Shinji simply stares at the new centrepiece of the table. There the cactus sits, quite content and green.

"Bya-kun…"

"Oh, stop deterring him." The blonde midget rolls her eyes, and kicks her ex-husband, popcorn forgotten. "So you bought her damn bouquet. Then what?"

"It was getting late by then." Byakuya shrugs, withholding information because what he now realized that coming to his best friends to possibly 'spill his soul' was very likely a mistake. "I offered to walk her back home."

"She accepted." Shinji rolls his eyes.

"Why would she refuse?" Hiyori gives a vicious jab of her elbow. Deny it all she likes; Sarugaki Hiyori is a diehard for old-fashioned romantics. And the two men both know it, though they'll never admit it.

Byakuya only pauses for a second. That's all he needs to know that she's hooked. Hiyori's expectantly waiting to hear the rest and Shinji glowers, although he's curious as well. So, in a different and exact same way, Shinji is hooked too.

"I walked her back home." He ignores the _I knew it _and _told ya so._ "We parted at the porch."

Hiyori leans in. "And?"

"Did ya kiss her?" Shinji simply shakes his head. _Jeez. It's like I'm in a group of gossiping schoolgirls._

"…" He looks at the palm of his hands. "… yes."

"Where, you charming man?" Hiyori snickers, enjoying this heart to heart.

"Clearly, his white prince antics wouldn't let him be anything but chivalric." Shinji joins in with the mockery, unable to simply stay aloof when it's so much fun drawing out the suspense. "Come on now, don't be shy."

It doesn't help his two friends will deride him with whatever he says. In all honesty, he's fairly certain that if he didn't know these two as well and as close as he did, he's fairly sure he'd despise them. "Her hand."

"That girl's gonna swoon." Shinji sighs hopeless, shaking his head. Clearly, Byakuya's taken with her. "Tell me she did."

"Actually… she kissed me." The Kuchiki admits slowly. "She giggled." And he smiles slightly, lips twitching upwards. "Called me 'sweet', said 'come here', and…"

"_The world froze. Eyes met. Suddenly, without meaning to, lips met as well_. Did it go something like that?" Hiyori narrates, somehow in a fairy tale mood. Her eyes are a little glassy.

Shinji suppresses a scoff. He does not succeed. And his ex-wife hears, but ignores him.

"She… um… had to jump. I… caught her. Our faces were… close. And then she kissed me." In all honesty, Byakuya doesn't mean to keep pausing. But he feels like he phrases their intimate moment a little awkwardly. Especially since it made his heart skip a beat at the time.

Shinji looks at Hiyori. He isn't exactly impressed. Byakuya's unconventional girlfriend is killing Shinji's divorced bride with the romanticism.

He'd really like to think that Hiyori _isn't_ like this taken, because he honestly thought that spur of the moment – in the heat of passion – was something that got Hiyori off. Hot-headed, quick-hearted, fully intentionally meanings and completely unintentional reveals; stuff of fire and brimstone… not a passive kind of fire that flickers like candlelight before it erupts into fireworks.

The sad thing is, he can imagine Byakuya and Hisana having a romantic rendezvous with fireworks and candlelight. With a crystal chandelier and a quartet. Just for kicks.

… he can't quite picture Hiyori and himself in the same situation. Would Hiyori even like that?

"Then she slid out of my grip… and landed on my foot. It didn't hurt, if you're interested." It surprised him that she was so light, though he supposes that he shouldn't be really. "And then she said goodnight, farewell, and then she entered her apartment."

Silence.

The blonde duo is stunned.

Then Hiyori scratches her head, feet tucked under the sofa. "Well, for a first date, that wasn't too bad."

"It wasn't…" The words end there and then, blue and gold eyes overpowering. Byakuya rephrases. "… an _intentional_ date."

Nevertheless, it went suspiciously like one.

And she _did_ give him her number this time around.

"Listen, Byakuya, I have no idea if this girl realizes it or not, but you're a freakin' _idiot_. Call her. Introduce her Daisuke. And then arrange a double date."

"… with who?"

"With _us_, of course. I want to meet her, Shinji wants to meet her. And as long as you're willing to pay—" She seems to be under the impression that she isn't rich any longer. "—we'll have a great time."

Byakuya considers this.

"Are you two back together?"

"No." Bluntly, Hiyori says. "I just chose 'double date' instead of 'friendly group outing' 'cause it's shorter."

"Could've fooled me." Breezily, Shinji decides to cut in.

Hiyori flashes him a fanged smile. "Well, like I said, darling, we were never going to work out."

"Says the person who's sleeping in my bed."

"Says the person _who's sleeping on his couch."_ Hiyori shoots right back without blinking an eyelid, her words perfectly enunciated.

"… right." Byakuya decides that he's going to give it about… a week, maybe two, before they jump each other's bones. He can only place bets with himself.

"It's a phase, sweetheart." Shinji banters, ignoring whatever his best friend has just said.

"An _eternal _one." Hiyori spits out.

"Don't be too sure about that." The blond rolls his eyes.

And this is the exact reason why their house warming present is a cactus.

Because these two _are_ the real idiots, preferring to be vituperative cacti rather than fluffy bunnies.

* * *

"Lovely to see you again. Feel free to abuse your one true love." Byakuya mutters as he stands up. "I'll make my own way out."

"Sit down," Hiyori yawns, suddenly tired. "It's lunchtime."

"Are you sure you wouldn't—"

"No."

* * *

Inevitably, it's Shinji who carries her to the table.

Nobody is complaining, not even the lanky blond, but Byakuya does wonder if he should leave them alone.

The two are clearly violently in love.

Even though they'll deny it at face value.


	19. Part XIX

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_19._

* * *

Chance.

Her words cling to Hitsugaya Toushirou for some reason, as he notices her left behind napkin, her number written neatly on a slant, lopsided with curly threes.

He doesn't believe in chance.

Never has, never will.

But that doesn't mean that he believes in fate or destiny either.

* * *

Momo sees him tuck the napkin in his pocket and smiles.

She'll question him another time.

* * *

He doesn't call Karin the next two days.

Instead, he takes it slow, takes it easy. Watching the morning pass by with a patient attitude; he offers a slight smile when he can to the customers, and gives an obligatory glare at Renji whenever he gets too close to his roommate, Momo.

And yet, his thoughts drift back to her, a strange girl who lives in a strange world.

He'd almost call her translucent, though he knows that she is not a ghost. He has felt her warmth, knows her weight against him; remembers her soft hair resting on his shoulders, and can imagine her hands squeezing his.

She is alive, real, breathing.

Yet the way she acted, he couldn't be blamed for almost mistaking her as living in a shadowed world.

* * *

Karin strips her walls bare. She is tired of seeing white walls hidden behind ebony frames with pictures of figments of her imagination; or such mundane things such as fruits or clocks or a face that only she might recognize.

She wants to draw something that means something to _her._

But she doesn't throw her previous art away; instead, she keeps them in her cupboard, just in case the need arises that she must sell them.

Her blue eyes blink, her hair musses, and Karin wonders what to draw, as the pads of her fingers recline on the paper.

A song sings softly, on a CD that cannot last much longer, since she has played it time and time again because she loves the melody so much. Old-fashioned it may be, bit its nice. New technology isn't always what makes some one happy.

Legs crossed, she waits for her inspiration.

Karin eventually draws clouds, drifting on a sunset, brimming in textured colours that are both brazen and tender.

And she thinks of her muse, with the slightly part of lips and a quick beat of the heart – but only after the sketch is complete.

* * *

Momo cannot believe it, mid-afternoon, clapping her hand on her mouth as she hides behind Renji.

It can't be.

_Incognito?_

No way.

"Renji," Momo murmurs, out of the corner of her mouth, even though she's quite certain that she hasn't been spotted, "get Shirou-chan for a moment."

"What? Why?" Renji arches his eyebrow, and folds his arms, craning his head back to see where's looking at.

"Wait!" The brunette says with a slight shriek, grabbing the redhead's neck so he doesn't turn. "Don't _stare!_ He'll be onto us – and I'm dying to see the reunion."

"Reunion?" Renji scrutinizes her, brown eyes looking into violet.

Momo only gives a cheeky smile.

"Go on; get Shirou-chan. Tell him, a customer ordered chocolate delight, and wants _him_ to serve it." It is honestly just her desire to see these two interact once more that Momo becomes devious. "Then, we work on being sneaky, and spy on their conversation. It'll be fun, you'll see."

"Table number?" Renji asks, shrugging. _Why not?_ It'll probably be worth the temper tantrum later, with that pout, as Hitsugaya is so prone to doing.

"Sixth." Momo says without a blink, glancing once just to make sure – then nods. It's the right number for the table. She's worked here long enough to remember the table numbers and where they're situated.

Renji cocks a grin. He's always liked that table, claiming that it has the best view of the square.

Personally, Momo's always preferred the fifth table. It's closer to the bakery.

"Abarai-kun, _go_." The tiny brunette prompts, still in the mischievous mood. "Before someone gets this customer."

"Yeah, yeah. I got it." The redhead shrugs, and does what he's told.

He's a little bit intrigued to know what the customer's connection with Hitsugaya is.

* * *

Sunglasses?

The lack of originality makes Hitsugaya Toushirou sigh.

He didn't realize it at first – since Renji was practically _adamant_ and quite vague about the details. A little 'Momo said this', a little 'customer knows you' and 'ordered chocolate delight', and there was the slightest bit of pique interest. Some semblance of hope for that strange girl. Kurosaki Karin.

But sadly, it isn't.

Bold black sunglasses, a soft green scarf, the ivory skin and haughty demeanour… there can only be one person who flaunts it as annoyingly as this.

His petty, petty cousin.

Kuchiki Byakuya.

(And he knows the second he imagines he hears Momo try to suppress a giggle and Renji duck behind the counter that it's his favourite roommate in the entire world that has set him up.)

"…" Toushirou's mouth contorts painfully. He doesn't want to speak. But that doesn't matter, since dearest Byakuya is flipping a magazine, destined for his eyes only and his snubbing nose. Still. He must serve the customer. Even if it's one he… particularly _dislikes_. "… your chocolate delight, _sir._"

The chocolate delight practically disintegrates as the plate is dumped on the table.

"I didn't order—" And the silence is almost delicious except for the narrowing of his cousin's grey blue eyes, recognition hardening that almost serene look on his stoic face. But at least his attention isn't on the magazine anymore. "—_chocolate delight._ Especially from you."

"Mm, had I known that it was _you_ who ordered chocolate delight, then I wouldn't have served it." Toushirou grits his teeth out.

"But I _didn't_ order chocolate delight." Black hair swishing in the wind, the cold hearted cousin insists.

"No, of course you didn't." He can believe that. "You hate chocolate. In fact, you hate all sweet things in your life." Now _that_ is a lie, but Toushirou adds it in for spite. "Momo did set me up."

"As she does." Byakuya shrugs, muttering. "In any case, despite this… grievance…" The pausing of the word makes Toushirou wants to punch his face. But no, the white haired man waits. Impatiently. "… I'd like some water, _waiter._"

And there is _definitely_ the faintest twitch of a smirk.

He'd be impressed because it's one of the few times his cousin has shown emotion, but he's too far gone seething in rage and inferiority that he doesn't care.

"Momo!" Toushirou turns and glares at his best friend, not quite able to escape him. "Get the man some water. Poison it." There's no way he is serving his cousin.

And to prove it, he begins to eat the chocolate delight.

"Yes sir!" The petite brunette salutes him, and quickly walks away.

"… that cake is coming out of your pay check." The devil decides to point out, somewhat snidely.

"Not if you ordered it." Toushirou growls.

"But I didn't."

"And yet, someone informed me you did."

"That's a _lie._" Byakuya narrows his eyes.

"And yet it's the truth." Toushirou will not budge.

The water comes, and it does nothing to break the tension. Momo scuttles away quickly. In fact, both the trembling waves of the transparent liquid and the trembling waitress go unnoticed.

"Hiyori's back." Byakuya informs his cousin. Quite blunt. He's never had a way with words.

"I heard." Toushirou doesn't nod, only tilting his head slightly to the side.

"By whom?" Evenly, the Kuchiki asks. But the note of curiosity betrays him.

"The lady herself." A pause. "Or should I say, _himself._"

Both of them have always wondered who wore the pants in the relationship. Shinji and Hiyori probably take turns or something.

Hitsugaya leaves it at that. In truth, Hiyori called him first, bored out of her mind, and mocked him incessantly. Then Shinji left a text message that Toushirou wisely chose to ignore. Sober, at the very least. It wasn't hard to work it out; he's seen the couple pre-relationship, during, and after. All the time, against his will.

They seem to view him as a pseudo-Byakuya or something. But feistier. And more interesting.

"Shinji called you my clone recently." The petty cousin once more starts, after he's so _delightfully_ drank his drink, taking his time like a princess or something.

"Oh, did he?" Feigning casualness spectacularly badly, it's not entirely subtle the way the metal fork bends just slightly. "I hadn't heard."

"So, you work here?" One thing Byakuya is quite prominent about is changing the subject quickly.

"Yes, did it take you that long to realize it?" He can't resist the dig. "Was the uniform or the 'sir' or even the chocolate delight not enough of a hint to peg it in?"

"At least I didn't take a gap year." Idly, Byakuya decides to swirl the ice cubes in his glass. He's not entirely sure _why_ they're there, but they are. And like a true Kuchiki, he must take advantage of what he has at hand.

"Yes, because a pampered prince with an empty head is _exactly_ what I want to be." Toushirou remarks, and tastefully scoops up the last crumbs of the chocolate delight because it's something that must be done – nothing must be left to waste. "I thought a bit of experience might do me some good."

"Yet I'm in the one who got into University of Tokyo." Now the pampered prince has decided to smoothen out the sheets. Neat freak.

"Bribery, cousin. I suspect as much."

"Then I'm afraid you're mistaken." Primly, Byakuya retorts. His slight unhinged appearance is noticeable, at least to those who know him. "It took skill and perseverance. Money has nothing to do with it."

He snorts. The words _I doubt it_ are left unsaid, but they are very much heard. "So, what are _you_ doing here? It's quite unlike you to come here."

"I was recommended this place. Evidently, that person hadn't met you." Eyebrows twitch. That is all.

Under the table, Toushirou's hand clenches. But he does his best to remain civil.

He changes the subject.

* * *

"How's it going?" Renji says, though he knows exactly how it is.

"For them?" Momo shrugs. "Pretty well."

* * *

A bloody nose later, and the cousins are on the best of terms.

"You are not on my Christmas list!" Byakuya fumes, his voice now nasal.

"And that's _bad?_ Cousin, I have never appreciated your uninspiring gifts _or_ tacky cards." Derisive, Toushirou is secretly proud of the damage he's done. For Byakuya is much infuriated. But then bloody noses tend to do that to people.

As does broken shades.

* * *

Unrepentant, Toushirou scornfully watches his cousin flounce off.

That takes care of that, then.

"Hitsugaya!" The manager practically roars in his ear.

_Oh._

And reality resumes once more.

* * *

"You couldn't have stopped me?" Outraged, Toushirou throws his hands up in the air. "Momo…"

"But you looked like you were having such fun!" Momo mumbles, wisely looking at her feet, though she preferred to gaze at the stars. "I couldn't have done anything anyway…"

They were far too absorbed in themselves, a history of hatred built between them.

"And hey, on the bright side, you only got suspended. Not fired. It's an improvement to before!" Which, incidentally, Byakuya _may_ have been the source of that problem too…

"…"

"Oh, don't be glum." She prods his invisible dimples. He should have dimples, Momo thinks; it would make him look cuter. "Think of this… as an opportunity."

"Of what?" Morose, Toushirou is barely listening to her, wrapped up in his own sense of woes.

"Of anything. Do what you want to do. That restless feeling, it's still there, right?" Her hands clap, as she jumps on the ground, her favourite kind: little tip-toe jumps. They make her feel like a ballerina: the epitome of graceful.

Then she trips on her own feet.

And Shirou-chan catches her, of course he does. Reaching out, he manages to hoist her back to her feet. Momo smiles shyly, and Toushirou only rolls his eyes. She mouths _thank you_, but he doesn't notice.

"I said wistful, not restless." Calmly, he tells her, letting go. "But, I suppose… I still feel like that."

"So, go and find yourself a breath of fresh air." The brunette encourages him, playing with her hair, and toying with a braid.

He stops, taking Momo by surprise.

A breath of fresh air?

He thinks he might have found it.

Kurosaki Karin.

* * *

Had he called, then and then, the mute girl would have been asleep.

If only for a few minutes longer.

* * *

Morning comes all too bitterly. Its grey skies and cloudy, that he only scowls through the window. Momo is gone with a kiss of the cheek and a squeeze of a hand.

He texts Karin then, asking her address.

It comes back pretty quickly.

She lives just around the corner.

* * *

When she opens the door, she has the biggest smile on her face.

Karin knows what to do: he is her muse.

And she's going to draw him, experimenting with the study of attraction.


	20. Part XX

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_2o._

* * *

Three words, eight syllables.

And they've never been said.

No, she's heard them, she's said them—but they've always been directed at someone else. Not him. Not her. It happens when she's wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss where his jawbone begins; and murmured an _I love you_ to someone else. He's given a smile, and mouthed the words _I love you_ to someone else. No, not just someone—one person.

Kurosaki Karin.

She's seen the adoration in his eyes when his emerald orbs rest on her. The age difference isn't as noticeable as it used to be, and while the two dark haired friends sit and chat, or simply murmur and write, there's a tangible part of Nel that almost wonders… if something's going on between them.

She knows that Ulquiorra and Karin were neighbours, and have always known each other.

There's no one else that Nel could actually believe that Ulquiorra would have an affair with but…

They have a connection, an undeniable presence, as they sit quietly in the corner.

It frightens her, in a way that she only notices after she begins to feel isolated from the world. Because, Ulquiorra is her world. He's her world in so many ways.

And he doesn't even know it.

But he must.

He must know—in one form or another.

Right?

* * *

The three of them first met in high school. And they became the best of friends. And then they drifted. But, sooner or later, they always came back to one another.

Grimmjow. Nelliel. Ulquiorra.

That was them, an odd trio.

One, the rogue, slightly rough around the edges.

Another, the flirt, trying to live life as much as possible.

The last, the stoic, by the book with a few sardonic remarks.

To her joy, all three of them got into the same university, and yet… a rift was formed, nonetheless.

Nel knows that Grimmjow and Ulquiorra aren't as close as they used to be, Ulquiorra somewhat hostile in an icy tone, and Grimmjow pushes Ulquiorra's buttons far too much.

Their friendship used to work, the green-haired muses, even despite the polar opposite personalities…

So what was the catalyst that broke it apart?

* * *

_:D. KK._

It's been nearly five days, and Ulquiorra really does wonder what Karin's getting herself into.

She's found a muse, and can't stop painting.

She's found a muse, and can't stop smiling.

She's found a muse, and won't go out.

Karin's consumed, thrilled by a certain Hitsugaya Toushirou. She's fascinated by his very being; she can't stop watching him, and it feels to Ulquiorra Schiffer that she's using this muse for perfection.

She's found this perfection in him, that no one else has been able to encapsulate so magnificently, and now she wants to pull it out.

Ulquiorra knows what Karin is like when she crushes on some guy. But this honestly isn't 'some guy', because her behaviour is incredibly different. It's questioning, yearning, hesitating, flinching.

Karin called Hitsugaya a pretty face, and that she liked the look of him. Karin called herself shallow.

And, yet it _must_ be deeper than that – a 'crush' – because Karin's almost fanatical, when it comes to Toushirou.

He pauses. 'Fanatical' isn't the right term, and yet, it somehow hits the mark.

Karin's admitted it – she _loves_ him. Maybe in a celebrity way. Like Nel, when it comes to _Chad_, the singing superstar. And maybe not.

But it's certain that it's taking its toll on her.

… _you're welcome. US._ Reluctantly, he sighs, and presses the send button.

Hence the reason he's buying Karin food.

Because the last time this happened… Karin became a little careless regarding her wellbeing.

* * *

There's a good reason why Ulquiorra's worried about her.

The days are passing, and it's going to approach the sixth month mark. Seven more days…

She'll be alright.

She will.

* * *

"You look beautiful." Ulquiorra says, smiling softly, hand resting on Nel's cheeks.

"Thanks." It's a simple look, comfy jeans and a skin tight t-shirt, hair messily placed in a ponytail. It's not her best, and there's hardly any make up on her face, but… still. Nel's cheeks turn a luminescent pink.

Honestly, she _is_ slightly nervous.

Because this is Karin, who's always been slightly aloof and detached, yet is grounded. She's strange, and she's mysterious, and it's almost as if Karin is the reflection of Ulquiorra.

Yeah, reflection. That might be it.

Or maybe, it's just… during these past sixth months; Karin's never really talked to her. Being mute is alien to Nel. Nel can't live in silence. It's such an isolating concept, so foreign. She _needs_ noise, to help her think, to let herself to and drift in a current. She _needs_ to hear someone's voice, whether it's loud or soft, whether it's just the simple sound of hearing Ulquiorra's breath against her, to let her know that she's not alone.

What Karin's done… is such an opposing thing to what Nel stands for.

It's not like Nel begrudges Karin for it, she just finds it odd.

She understands, in some way, because Ulquiorra explains it to her… but…

But it feels like, to her, that Karin is isolating herself from the human race.

Karin can _talk_ – why doesn't she just use her voice to say the words she wants to be heard? To let people know about her sorrow, to let people know to keep their distance.

Nel gets it, she does…

Silence is needed, because noise cannot fill the void.

But to be silent _all the time?_

She finds it strange, that's all.

* * *

It amazes Nel how electric Karin's smile is. It makes her black hair almost glossy, and eyes bright and skin flush. There's a freedom in how Karin walks and hugs the both of them, disengaging in a way that reminds the green haired girl of saltwater on the beach.

She looks happy.

Nel gazes at Ulquiorra from the corner of his eye, her smile natural.

And Ulquiorra Schiffer looks… unnerved.

_What,_ Nel wonders, with a tinge of sadness stabbing at her heart, _what can Ulquiorra see that I can't?_

Karin gestures them in, and Ulquiorra takes her hand and Nel forgets, for a fleeting second, whatever she was thinking.

* * *

It's nice, despite all Nel's misgivings, looking all around. The walls are stark white, completely bare, save a few painting of clouds against the sunsets. There are scraps of paper everywhere, on the floor and tables and chairs, mingled in with photos. It seems almost colour coordinated – the walls are white, the chairs are brown, the table is yellow (at least the tablecloth is), the TV is black, the doors have been painted orange.

It's nice, but it doesn't feel like someone's living here.

* * *

Karin plays with her food before eating it. Pushes it to the side, and tries to eat in neatly, before licking her lips and wiping her mouth before she settles onto the next piece.

Well. Pizzas can be messy. Not as messy as spaghetti, but still, quite messy.

"Hey, who's that guy that you've been sketching?" Nel leans forward; nearly finished with the pizza and about to start on her salad, ready for conversation.

"Hitsugaya Toushirou. He's her muse." The dark haired man answers instead of the dark haired woman. "… Nel, you've got tomato on your mouth." Finding a napkin, he rubs it away. And kisses that spot just for luck.

Karin doesn't seem to notice, or at least, doesn't mind their interaction.

There's no flash of hurt, instead, there's a slither of a smile. Karin gives them their privacy, and mulls on something else.

"What's he like?" Ulquiorra asks softly.

Biting her lip, one of her hands rests on her chin. _Tap, tap, tap_… her foot beats out a pattern on the floor. Karin stands up, signalling that mysterious muse Hitsugaya Toushirou is only slightly taller than herself.

"Short." Nel adds in, and Karin grins at that. Nods too.

Then she points at Ulquiorra and frowns. Or rather, _broods._

"Troubled."

Another grin, a happy clap.

"I am _not_ troubled." Ulquiorra mutters.

"Mm, not any more," Nel humours him, nudging him with her elbow and leaning into him. "But I think you used to be."

"I think she means that he frowns a lot." Ulquiorra says, taking a very definite scowl and mixing it with a glare and aiming at their direction.

Karin giggles, and it surprises Nel. She's forgotten that Karin only gave up _speech_, not sound. She nods at _that_ as well.

Then, her dark blue eyes widen, swallowing a great sadness, and turns away. Her hands instinctively rise and stay at her elbows, crossed. She's gazing out the window, and suddenly, smoothly, she sits, legs crossed as well.

"… searching." Ulquiorra interprets, the same time as Nel murmurs, "… lonely."

Karin looks back, carefully examining their faces, both of them individually and nods. She doesn't say which one of them was right. But she doesn't say which of them was wrong either.

And then she yawns, and it's not a game of charades any longer: it's Karin and she's tired.

"Karin. Go to sleep, if you're tired." Nonchalantly, Ulquiorra is quick to say without changing his stoic expression. "We know our way out."

Finding a pen and paper, Karin scrawls out, _if you say so, dad._ That's all Nel reads before Karin glances at both of them, rolls her eyes and scribbles something hastily before tossing it in Ulquiorra's direction. She yawns once more, and motions them to go. But not before she gives them both a hug. Her caring face says something that Nel wouldn't have noticed if she wasn't looking. A slight smile. _It was lovely to see you both._

"Yuzu misses you." Nel murmurs. "Talk to her soon, okay?"

_Mm._ There's sincerity in Karin's nod, glistening in her eyes. _I will._

* * *

_Take care, you two._

Karin gives a sleepy smile as she waves them off. Her hair is mussed up, and the lines of her face are a little weary.

And the lights may be switched off as they give one last glance to the apartment, but Karin remains wide awake.

* * *

Maybe Nel's just being foolish, and absence makes the heart think the worst of people.

There is a connection between the two, that's undeniable. But she's being too insecure by reading into it.

"I'm silly, aren't I?" Nel sighs as she leans into the crook of his neck, snug as they walk the streets, his arm around her. "For being jealous of her."

"…" His expression is actually priceless, so vibrantly confused. "… you were jealous?"

Her bottom lip sticks out. "Maybe a little."

"…" And his cheeks are flushing; prettily pink across his much too pale face. "Truth be told, I was a little jealous of you and Grimmjow."

"Now that's just silly." Nel offers a hopeless grin, glad to know that she's not alone, glad to let Ulquiorra confide in her. "Why?"

"Because… he's less… uptight, I suppose?"

"Oh, but Grimmjow-kun is much too wild for my tastes. And you have loosened up, I swear. Even if you didn't, I'd want you just the way you are."

He kisses there and then, drawing her close and letting her shiver to her toes. They have a mutual smile that, from Nel's point of view, looks absolutely adorable.

"So, why were you jealous of Karin?" Ulquiorra can't help but ask.

"Because…" Her head lowers. Nel runs her tongue over her teeth, "… I don't know. There's something about you two that I can't put my finger on… it scares me." She forces out a laugh, aware of how fake it sounds. It's not like her, to be vulnerable. She's meant to be sunshine and sunbeams, and to bring about a rainy day is _horrible._ "I'm being stupid, aren't I?"

"No, I understand. I think." Slowly, Ulquiorra muses, saying the words only with consideration. "But Karin… I could never love Karin like that. She's… my mirror, in some ways. We have the same darkness, once, if not still. When I found you, you became my light. Karin still hasn't found hers."

"But Yuzu…"

"It's not the same."

"Why?" Her head tilts to the side, tongue heavy in her mouth.

"Because." And there's a teasing in his eyes, and a rush of a pulse that make the sky sprinkle glitter in shades of white snow. Her breath catches, and she thinks that if this moment was frozen, Nelliel would never mind, to be trapped in this second for eternity. "She'll never love Yuzu the same way that I love you."


	21. Part XXI

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_21._

* * *

"Did you say it back?" Completely enraptured, Rukia can't help but ask. She wilfully ignores Hisana's _shhs_. She's got to find her romance _somehow._

"Of course!" Nel grins, skin shining like a beacon. "And what happened afterwards… well, it was the best we ever had."

Hisana arches her eyebrow, intrigued. She doesn't want the exact details, but knowing how active those two were…. she couldn't help but ask. "Really?"

"Really." Nel confirms quite blissfully. Her smile won't quite fit on her face, Rukia thinks with a sideways glance, if it truly represented her happiness. "Honestly, I should have said it sooner."

Her phone beeps. Nel looks down, giggles happily, and lightning fast texts something out.

It must be Ulquiorra, of course.

"So, why didn't you?" Hisana asks in unison with Rukia. They're diehard romantics, the both of them.

"I don't know. Maybe I couldn't. Not until he said it first. Maybe not. Maybe I should have said it first." Nel shrugs, not certain of her own uncertainty. It was a small rift between them, yet it existed no more. In all honesty, it was clear as day, how deeply in love they were. They'd always said 'best friends with benefits', but in reality they'd crossed the line as an official couple without saying the words. "But… I don't think it matters, does it? 'Cause we've said it now. He's my boyfriend."

And she's never said that word to anyone before, after they broke up. It was a mutual thing, how they got together afterwards.

Words unspoken.

Rukia grins because she thinks that Nel doesn't even know she's smiling. Even though her thoughts are so clearly about _him_. Rukia wants a guy like that.

"Oh, I am so being the bridesmaid to both your marriages." Bursting out, the youngest girl says, unable to stand it any longer.

"Rukia!" Hisana mumbles, face heating up into a blush.

"… both?" Bemused and excited at the same time, Nel picks up on that. Narrowing her hazel eyes, she looks at her friend that she's helped throughout university, feigning shock that she's been kept from this secret. "Hisana… what aren't you telling me?"

"Did you know that Hisana has a boyfriend?" Rukia asks suddenly, eager for conspiracy theories.

"I _knew _it." Nel crows, jubilant. It's like she said, a little bit of romance never hurt anybody. "_Knew it!_"

"He bought her flowers and chocolates and everything." Rukia claps her hands, relishing the spotlight that has been forced upon her elder sister. It still amuses Rukia to see Hisana fluster, and it's interesting to note the contrast of a blooming relationship of her subtle sister to the extrovert Nel.

"Tell me he's kissed you." The green haired university student giggles, voice lowered into a whisper.

"Mmhmm." The raven haired girl nods. "Twice. We're going a date later today, actually."

"You never told me that!" Outraged, Rukia says, jumping from the sofa. Legs flailing, she moves nearer to Nel now, and further away from her sister, careful not to bump into the table in the middle.

Brushing back a lock of hair that has fallen over her ear, Hisana replies with a demure smile. "… you never asked."

"But—but! Sisters are supposed to kiss and tell!" Clinging for support, Rukia has managed to master puppy eyes without aid from Nel, too mischievous by far. "Right?"

"Oh, I don't know… aren't people meant to have sex and shut up too?" Hisana reminds her more youthful mirror image. "I think we're defying expectations here."

Nel's phone beeps again, and the spotlight has been changed once more. Nel stands up and smoothes her skirt from the creases.

"Alright, I've got to go, but Hisana… you've got to tell me _all_ the details. Okay?"

"Okay!" Hisana grins, and she thinks she's being ridiculously happy by just mentioning his name and thinking of how sweet he's been to her.

* * *

The door shuts, and Rukia turns the focus on her sister once more.

"Let me meet him."

"Byakuya-kun?"

"Yes. Him." Once more do the puppy eyes appear. "Please?"

Hisana does not look at her sister. She can't. Otherwise she's going to give. But her toes aren't very interesting. Maybe she should paint her nails.

"… I don't know." But even Hisana can tell that her resolve is breaking before her eyes.

"C'mon, I'll even help you with your make up." It's probably a really bad effort at compromise, but…

"With an offer like that, how I can ever refuse?" Light-heartedly agreeing, the two Souen sisters laugh into a tackling embrace.

"Yay!"

* * *

Her heart races when Byakuya-kun picks up. And Hisana cannot help but smile.

"Hey."

"… _Hisana? Hello. Is everything alright?"_

"Um, yes, actually. There is this one thing though…" Nervously, she plays with the hem of her sleeve.

"_What is it? I'm sure I can oblige." _

* * *

He's glad it isn't serious, but it is a challenge, Byakuya must admit.

However, he's a Kuchiki, and he must persevere.

And he will get into the Souen's good graces.

* * *

Like a proper gentlemen, he knocks on the door.

It's Rukia who answers the door.

"You must be Rukia." Byakuya says flawlessly, attempted a smile, but he's far too nervous.

Nevertheless, since he can tell the difference between them, the younger Souen sibling is impressed.

"That I am." Revealing a great big grin, the door opens, and Rukia somewhat gestures him to enter. Yet he declines, staying outside. "Would you like me to get my sister?"

"I would. But first, I must ask you this. Do you happen to like rabbits, perchance?"


	22. Part XXII

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_22._

* * *

And so it was, the bunny date settled.

Shinji doesn't know whether to clap in earnest or disdain.

* * *

"You two are so adorable that I can hardly stand it." Hiyori comments with a scowl as she slurps down the contents of a strawberry smoothie. "Seriously. If you were sugar, the sheer amount of sweetness that the two of you are generating would be enough to flood the entire building. And more."

She's probably only saying this because she's bored, Shinji thinks but does not say. Why they're watching ballet is something that has never interested them.

No, they'd rather mock the mute characters that prefer to gesture and dance and hop along with the music. Or the two blondes could fall asleep. Either is quite preferable, so long as they both choose the same option in telepathic fashion.

"What's this one called?" Contrary to the light haired couple, the dark haired couple are more interested, and will therefore have the correct answer. Shinji leans and looks at them with suggestive eyes. If Byakuya and Hisana want some 'alone time', Shinji is more than happy to leave with Hiyori by his side.

"The Nutcracker." Byakuya replies, just as the lights dim, and the ballet begins.

* * *

Both Shinji and Hiyori fall asleep. And in their sleep, they snuggle. Not that they'd know that.

* * *

"Did we miss much?" Shinji is the first to wake, disengaging until he feels the still sleeping ex-wife pull on his shirt.

"…" Byakuya stares at him with frosty eyes. It's his own fault that he fell asleep. Hiyori didn't help either.

"Not if it wasn't your thing." Hisana shrugs, and Shinji quirks a leer. He's beginning to like this girl.

Evidently, Sarugaki Hiyori notices, and stamps on his foot painfully. Quickly that leer becomes strained, but maintained all the same.

_What?_ He mouths later, whilst Hiyori doesn't meet his eyes. And yet, though her face is turned away, he can still read the movement of her lips. _It's nothing._

Nothing? Noiselessly, the arching eyebrow rises once more, while the smirk fades. _You call that 'nothing'?_

Like Hell it was.

* * *

Hisana, for all her shy demeanour, gradually adjusts to the ongoing jabs between the argumentative pair of friends which border on being lovers. Byakuya watches in amusement, before he too, at times, joins in – if only to catch Hisana's eye and share a secret smile and blush of red.

Then she reaches out to hold his hand, and like a jigsaw puzzle, they fit.

Hiyori rolls her eyes.

* * *

They're not dating.

They're not married.

Technically, both of them are free to see other people.

But dammit, he's been hers for so long, before the distance, and before they met.

Sometimes, even now, it still feels that she can just reach out and bite him, murmuring _mine_ while inflicting pain on his chest.

Yeah.

Hiyori wants to kiss and bite and make his tongue bleed.

Words don't need to be spoken; Shinji understands _that_ so very well.

And yet, here they are, standing at an impasse. Watching it break until it shatters in an explosion.

Isn't that how it works?

* * *

"Nice meeting you." Shinji nods to the pretty couple, which mirror them in shape, and nothing else. Byakuya and Hisana are the sweetness to Shinji and Hiyori's acidity. A tall guy, a short girl. It's not a bad thing to be. "Careful, though."

"Mm?" Hisana blinks, doe eyes too wide.

"Shinji…" A warning sign that Byakuya knows that his best friend will ignore.

"You'll my first love if you keep being a sweetheart to Bya-kun."

It's meant to be something light-hearted, a kind of blessing on his part, and a start to get back to his usual roots. He remembers saying it all the time, save the one that counted.

But it's a push, and Hiyori and Byakuya know _exactly_ what he means while Hisana stares at him bemused.

Hard, harsh, resounding.

Hirako Shinji welcomes that slap.

And he hears it, as his flesh turns into a mottled pink scar, a broken heart in that print of a hand.

_Mine._

* * *

Hiyori offers a fanged smile to the new couple.

She's glad that Byakuya's found somebody; far be it her to point this out, and that Souen girl seems exactly what the aloof git needs.

But it's not enough for her to _not_ storm away, the damned idiot following after her.

She won't wait for the assurances that Byakuya will predictably say and murmur that they like her. Or maybe he'll say something about the violence and needless abuse.

Pregnant, blonde, short-tempered, all Sarugaki Hiyori wants to do is lash out.

Hirako Shinji's always been the perfect bag.

* * *

"You drive me crazy, you do." The ex-husband rolls his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder why I even bother."

Red blush scatters across her cheeks, Hiyori feels her face burn. "Then why don't you, Shinji? Why don't ya just kick me out, since I drive you so _crazy?_"

It's not like he doesn't do the same for _her_.

But of course, her _pig_ of a husband—ex-husband—only thinks about _himself._

Here, Shinji's face goes sullen. Pained, as if he can't even bring himself to admit it.

"You want to kick me out? Fine, kick me _out!_ Say the words, and I'll disappear." Fiercely, she shouts, ready to pull his hair and bash him black and blue for being such an insensitive _ingrate_ to a pregnant lady.

"Even if I wanted to, I couldn't." Softly, he says. She has to strain her eyes to know what he's saying. "I wouldn't. I—"

Neither knows how it conspires, but suddenly, she's pressed against the brick wall and her mouth's gone dry. Hiyori can't lick her lips just right, and Shinji's mouth is too distracting as a result.

It's not the hormones. Hiyori thinks as his hold tightens on her wrists, and _he's not doing anything._ It can't be.

"I can't live without you." She loves—_hates_ how raspy his voice sounds, so guttural and nostalgic… "I don't think I can again, now that you've here."

_You can't leave._

And she's glad of the darkness that hides her face and the tears that threaten everything.

She swallows, but her throat is too dry and the air is like knives.

_I don't want to leave._

* * *

He hears her – how her voice screaming and how her whole frame quivers against him.

He lets her go.

But he doesn't kiss her. And that hurts too, in a possessive sort of way.

* * *

"Shinji," Hiyori mutters, skin too hot and cold from his touch and her desire. "Let's go home."

The first few steps are the hardest. She feels unbalanced and like there's no such thing as a straight line.

But he follows her, all the same, his gaze smouldering in this wake.

… and maybe this is the first time that Hiyori really acknowledges that she's truly home.

With Shinji by her side.


	23. Part XXIII

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_23._

* * *

Karin doesn't touch him. Hitsugaya Toushirou's very aware of that without knowing why.

She stares and she blinks and she looks away, never reaching for him with her hands, but always with her eyes.

Her fingerprints are like granite on his paper skin, or dried paint on fingers… that's the closest she's ever gotten.

Sketching and watching, drinking and sighing.

He's fallen asleep sometimes, and even then, he's so conscious of her even breathing and her pencils tinting the paper with the faintest hint of melancholy.

* * *

He doesn't know what he's waiting for, really.

It's a battle of patience, and neither is beginning to break.

* * *

… and he's yearning, yearning for the sound of her voice.

* * *

She sleeps in a wakeful dream, but knows it must be reality.

It must be reality, Karin thinks, for she could never dream of someone like her pretty muse.

But it doesn't _feel_ like reality, no, it's more like it's a glasslike shadow that crystallizes all around her.

"… Karin?" Toushirou speaks her names, softly, cautiously, and like a candle to the darkness, her attention is drawn to him, and it seems as if he too cannot believe that this is reality. "Are you alright?"

_Mm, _the blue eyed girl murmurs, blinking in rapid succession. She offers a smile.

"Okay." He nods, even though concern is written all over his face. "Night."

_Night,_ Karin mouths, and he manages to lip-read; afterwards, she offers a tentative wave as she watches him approach the door.

He lingers there, as the door remains ajar, waiting for something that never happens.

* * *

The city slumbers, and the mute woman cannot bring herself to join it.

Drifting in restless insomnia, she draws and dances, unsatisfied with either.

* * *

He lets himself in, the next day, and isn't surprised to notice that she hasn't moved an inch, staring out the window. These past few days, as she bites her lips and sighs, she's becoming distant, relinquishing her initial grounded-ness that may or may not have been a contributing factor to accepting her offer. Now is a different story, she's almost listless, and he's worried about her.

Toushirou wonders if she's asleep, sitting there by herself; he moves towards her.

Floorboards creak, and she starts, ending whatever sort of reverie she was having. Karin stirs, yawning, as she turns to face him. Blearily, she stares at him; before surprise hits her features and she tries to stand up.

But she sways, and automatically, Toushirou rushes forward to catch her. Slowly, he guides her to a chair, and finds pen and paper, in case she wishes to communicate in more than worried gestures, and maintain that promise to herself.

"… are you sure you're alright?" He asks softly, brushing the hair behind her ear, as mussed as it is.

Karin nods slowly, after gazing at him. Her mouth is open, pretty and parted, and he forces himself to meet her eyes instead of her lips.

"Are you sure?"

She nods again, touching his shoulder to console him, perhaps, and she offered a slight smile. _I'm fine. Thank you._ She writes, just to emphasize it. _Make me some coffee, and just wait a second. I'm going to have a shower._

"'kay." Toushirou murmurs, barely audible, so conscious of her gesture, her hand still on his shoulder. "Take your time."

She flicks his nose playfully, and he reacts by pulling a face that makes her giggle.

_See?_ Her laughter seems to sing to him. _I'm fine._

* * *

He thinks her touch may be addictive, warm where he is not; and whilst he's lost in this speculation, Karin's returned.

He hasn't moved at all since she left him, and at once, he rushes to make the best cup of coffee.

It's her grin and the way her eyes light up that tell him that his goal has succeed.

_Let's do something different today,_ Karin writes, _what do you say?_

And his crooked grin is all she needs as acceptance.

* * *

They spend the day at the park, holding hands and lying on the grass, and watching the breeze blow children away.

It's not really anything, but she draws a balloon floating by a dragon in a twilight sky. That's what she tells him, as she lays down the first details.

_Sounds strange, doesn't it? _

He considers it. Yeah, it does. It sounds silly and a little bit weird, but why should that stop anyone?

"Draw what you want to draw." Toushirou shrugs, before he bids her goodnight and witnesses her final smile for that day's end.

* * *

She's running and running and running—

—and where is she going in this… this is a dream…?

Right?

… but when did she fall asleep?

* * *

_Ding dong!_

It's two thirty AM, and Momo wonders who could be at the door.

Nobody.

There's nobody there.

* * *

And she's walking in the dreamscape, and sliding through rain and watching the shimmer of kaleidoscope eyes swallow her whole.

* * *

Honestly, Toushirou's under no obligation to go to Karin's house every day.

_Come whenever you feel like it._ She smiled, that very first time, as she gave him a cup of tea.

She painted the sky that day, and told him afterwards that she thought it lacked depth.

He thought that she was being ridiculous – because she drew something a million times better than he ever could.

And he loved the way the sea swirled beneath it, wistfully in such poignancy.

* * *

It's reality. Karin thinks, as she stares at the blue paint that reaches her elbows and slides into her clothes.

She's got to wash, and try to exist.

… and yet the water that emerges from the shower is nothing but orange paint.

* * *

Reality. Illusion.

Which is which?

Karin's losing her grasp. She knows she is.

And yet she knows that there's four days left—and she's going crazy.

The bed is made of feathers and snakes… both of them wrapping around them in oily softness…

Why is she going insane?

* * *

Desperately, she thinks of her muse; her strange, strange tether that she knows must be reality.

And yet, Karin doesn't know him at all.

* * *

The silence is killing her, Toushirou realizes as the door to her apartment swings open, and he finds her sobbing silently on the floor. Her cheeks are wet and the floor will flood with her tears.

(Later, she tells him that she can hear a heart beating under her tiles. But he hears nothing at all.)

So he speaks, and tells her things that he never thought he'd tell other people.

But there's a gift in being a stranger and a friend and not knowing them well enough to judge – and Karin, in her silence will not break it.

But Toushirou can, and he will.

* * *

And she listens, and listens, and she clings to the sound of his voice.

Reality may crumble, but she's still here, lost in the anecdotes that slowly pull her to shore.

* * *

Unspoken, their 'no touch' rule has been broken. That previous barrier is gone now, corroded away by this desire knowing that she is here, that he is here. But he fears that isn't enough.

(He'll guide her home with nothing but words if he has too.)

Her hair, her arm, her leg, it's just the faintest bit of pressure where his hand rests, rubbing circles occasionally. It's different and happens when he can't think of anything to say, trying to comfort her. It just… feels right, and when she moves, he's always close as hand. Even now, as strange as it is, he's still her muse.

(She's so thin and willowy that he knows he can't leave her. Not now.)

Karin lets him dance with her, and together they sway to an invisible beat. He tries to talk then, as her cold hands fit together with his, but the words are forgotten.

(He doesn't for three days, and thinks it's a miracle that he hasn't gone hoarse.)

Toushirou doesn't think she sleeps, and maybe he's right. But try as he might to ascertain this, the currents of sleep have pulled him under.

* * *

Today's the day.

Waking from her dream, that wilderness of thorns against her wrist, she sees shards of glass shatter all around them.

No, there's not.

Her apartment is fine.

It's just… just her imagination materializing once more.

Trembling, she moves away from Toushirou, gently moving his hand away from her waist to the floor. Quietly, she searches, hands finding soft pastels.

Looking at her muse, so peacefully there, Karin longs to draw once more.

* * *

"I've finished." Satisfaction rings in her voice, and she utters her first words for the first time in six months.

"You _can _talk." Toushirou says in disbelief, yawning as he stirs. "I thought…"

Her head tilts to the side, curiously curling her lip. "I _did_ tell you, you know. I could talk. I just didn't want to."

"I guess you did." Ruffling his tousled hair, Toushirou stretches and moves from the futon. "Has anyone told you that you have a beautiful voice?"

"You'd be the first." Karin smirks, laughing softly. "And thank you, by the way, Toushirou."

"Did you miss it?" He asks suddenly, and then clarifies. "Your voice."

"At times, yes. It's much quicker to simply talk, than it is to write. And yet, people don't tend to listen in any case." She shrugs. "It was an interesting experience, nonetheless."

He wonders if it was worth it.

And then he wonders if what she really needed was someone like him, new and completely foreign, to stay by her side… and care for her, in a short span of days.

* * *

"Where are we going?" He asks, Karin throws him a coat and grabs one for herself.

"Somewhere I've needed to go for a long time, but haven't. I… I want you to be there."

* * *

"There's someone I'd like you to meet." Karin says, as she leads him through the graveyard, holding his hand and shaking nonetheless. "My big brother."

* * *

"Hey, how have you been? I'm sorry I haven't visited, but… I guess… I guess I couldn't."

He sits besides her, and listens to her talk and talk and talk.

She doesn't let go of his hand the entire time.

* * *

They sit in silence, and he's astounded at how powerful it can be.

People underestimate its effect far too much.

Before, when acting as a muse, he had become so conscious of himself and her. He could be noticed for the tiniest of movements and the angles of her hips. The crease of paper and weight of a smile.

It was so easy to focus on the physical aspects.

But now, he's become aware of the atmosphere.

How's she feels without words.

It's simple, it's complex… it's her.

* * *

_Why me?_ He wants to ask. _Why did you choose me, out of all the people in the world?_

She turns to face him, and that one look answers everything.

_Because I did. I chose you, because I wanted to._

* * *

The sky is dark, and yet Karin cannot count a single star in the sky.

"C'mon, let's go back."

"'kay." She mumbles, and blinks slowly as she stands up.

She's so _tired_.

"Karin?" Toushirou looks at her oddly, while the edges of her vision blacken and the world around her horribly contorts sideways. "Are you—"

_What?_ Straining, her ears become deaf as the world continues to exist in an eschewed sideways way.

And suddenly it's not.

And suddenly she's falling.

And suddenly she's not.


	24. Part XXIV

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_24._

* * *

Hospital.

… she wasn't alright.

And Ulquiorra only has himself to blame.

* * *

Karin's always hated hospitals, Ulquiorra knows that.

For one, the walls are too colourless. There's no one here but ghosts. Ghosts with smiles and gloves and sleeping gas.

And in all honesty, he agrees with her.

* * *

"Hey," Nel murmurs, after they heard the news, and uncomfortably sits in the car, while Ulquiorra drives. "Don't blame yourself, okay?"

"I should have been there." Stoically, stubbornly, he says.

His eyes are too green; Nel thinks sadly, their vivacity dulled by this scare.

And she will _not_ let him succumb to this torment.

"But you weren't." Softly, she sighs, trying to make him understand her feelings. "Karin isn't your responsibility, Ulquiorra. You shouldn't have to take care of her every step of the way."

"Normally, she can take care of herself anyway…" Jet black hair shimmers, and he shakes his head. "But this was different. This is because of her brother. And I – I should have been there."

Nel holds her breath, counting to ten, hoping that her anger will suffuse.

It doesn't.

"Pull over." Firmly, she says.

Silently, he obliges, finding a spot to park as quick as he can.

* * *

"Ulquiorra, repeat after me: it is not your fault."

"It is not my fault."

He doesn't believe it, though he says it.

"Things happen."

"Things happen."

"World domination, assassination, accidents. Lots of things happen." At his incredulous look, she gives him a gentle push. "Say it!"

"… world domination, assassination, accidents. Lots of things happen." Ulquiorra arches an eyebrow. "But none of these things are related to me."

"Yeah, I know." Nel places her hands on his shoulders. It was a weak attempt to make him laugh. "Still. Repeat: Karin has a life beyond me. She has other friends which I do not know of. The same applies to me."

"Karin has a life beyond me. She has other friends that I don't know. She has a muse, which I have yet to meet. And… I have a life which she doesn't know about."

"We live different lives, but we are still connected." _Good,_ Nel thinks, trying her best to cheer him up.

"We're friends, but that doesn't mean that we have to be there every single second."

"Things happen. And I am not to blame for it."

"… it wasn't my fault."

"And I should stop having a guilt complex, because you are not Itsygo!"

There's a long pause before Ulquiorra responds to that.

"I don't have guilt complex. And I am not that… I'm not _him_."

* * *

She hugs him then, because she knows he needs it.

She knows that he craves her comfort, and willingly, she gives it; supporting him and acting as his pillar of strength.

* * *

"… can you call him 'Itsygo' for me?" Nel can't help but ask, breaking this tender moment.

"No, Nel. Never."

"Damn."

He snorts, and that's the closest it's going to get to laugh today.

* * *

She drives to the hospital, and lets her eyes flick over to him when his hand passes from her shoulder to her elbow.

"Nelliel, thank you."

Green haired and hazel eyed, she sends him a quick, assuring smile.

"Anytime."

* * *

She knows that if the reverse was to occur, he would do the same for her.

* * *

"You're the muse." Nel says at once, realizing at once who the white-haired, blue-eyed stranger is.

"Hitsugaya Toushirou." Ulquiorra drawls out, in a very low voice.

Karin was right; he _is _short, a little taller than that petite. But still a midget in comparison to the emerald couple.

Short. Troubled. Frowning. Brooding. Searching.

Lonely.

Lonelier now, now that Karin sleeps.

He cares so much for her, Nel sees, and thinks it could be love.

Maybe _not_ a romantic love, but a pure love nonetheless.

* * *

Communicating without words, his girlfriend keeps Karin's muse at bay, while Ulquiorra himself visits the unconscious girl.

He stares at her, drinking in everything about her.

Reaching out, he hopes that she'll be alright.

And Karin shifts, but does not regain the life she deserves.

"Don't die, Karin." Ulquiorra Schiffer verbalizes his wish. "Stay strong."

He looks back, through the filtered glass, and sees a timid conversing to the two strangers. Well. It's timid on the muse's part, and not so timid on Nel's part.

"Perhaps, you've found him."

But he can't really say, because he doesn't know the muse at all.

(And if Karin was awake, she'd chastise him and tell him to call him Toushirou. That would be like her. She'd call her muse by his first name, because she's found a connection with him.)

* * *

"How long have you known her?" Nel asks, sitting beside Hitsugaya-san.

"Two weeks." He answers shortly.

"I'm Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck." She attempts a smile, preferring that to the handshake. "But please, call me Nel."

He nods. "My name is Hitsugaya Toushirou."

"Were you there when she…"

"Yes, I was with her. At the graveyard."

_Oh._ Her lips part in understanding, mouthing the words that she couldn't speak. "Did she… ever tell you about him? Her brother?"

"Not really."

"He was nice. Fun to tease." And mispronounce his name, but Nel won't tell him that. Not just yet. "When he died, they all took it hard, but Karin…"

"… she's strange, isn't she?" He finishes her sentence, even though that wasn't what Nel was going to say. But the way he's looking at her, tells her that he needs to know that he isn't the only one Karin appears odd to.

"Yeah. She's very… eccentric. But we love her anyway. Karin's interesting to be around, if you stick with her, well, it's definitely worthwhile." And now, she can't help but ask. "Why did you want to be her muse?"

"I just wanted to. She chose me for reason, and so I said yes, for no reason." He looks at her in understanding; and Nel can see it, how Karin's fallen for him, and he for her. "She drew me in… and I must have served as inspiration."

They think on that, and then he speaks again.

"I think… I wanted to hear the sound of her voice."

"Did you hear it?"

"Yeah."

And there, just on the corner of his lips, is softest sort of smile that Nel's ever seen.

* * *

"Thank you." Nel says to him, just as Ulquiorra motions to leave.

"For what?" In a quiet voice, as low as her own, Hitsugaya Toushirou asks.

Nel takes her time in answering, choosing the right words.

"For being Karin's muse."

_And for being there._

* * *

Nel squeezes Ulquiorra's hand, and he kisses her, chastely, before pulling her closer for a deeper kiss. Her back presses against the door of the car, and with a sweet smile, green-haired Nel pulls away, hands rising from his back to his shoulder, maintaining a little distance between them.

"Are you okay, Ulquiorra-kun?"

"Better now, I think."

"He's a good kid, Karin's muse." She informs him, as she straightens out her jacket.

"Do you really think so?"

"Yeah. I like him."

"Then I'll take your word for it."

* * *

They spend the rest of the day feeding the birds… and possibly trying to drown a few ducks too.


	25. Part XXV

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_25._

* * *

Jackrabbits made the world a better place, Rukia has discovered, as she embraced the adorable fellow named _Daisuke._

He is so cute and fluffy!

She _seriously _wants to keep this lovable minion.

"You're the best, Byakuya-san!" Rukia giggles, overjoyed with the bunny that nuzzled her arms with its tiny nose.

* * *

Hop. Hop. Hop.

… Byakuya is fairly certain he has won over Souen Rukia with the jackrabbit.

As for Hisana?

She is nothing short of amused.

* * *

"You're full of surprises." Hisana mumbles to him, as she watches her little sister make friends with the rabbit.

"Well, if it works, and makes you happy, then I'm satisfied." Slightly smug, Byakuya cannot help but reply. "I may have been doubtful… but I'm glad this method worked."

"Mm, I can tell that Rukia's going to love you if you keep bribing her like this." Lips curl, and Hisana looks at him disbelief, smirking a little. "Clever move, bunnies."

"Not to be modest, but I have an excellent memory." Smoothly, the brunet replies, and she arches her eyebrow at him in response.

"Yes, you're a _very_ modest person." Unable to help it, she laughs.

"A Kuchiki does his best."

"And this Souen is much impressed." Violet eyes glitter, like they did when they met. "Why, you could have my heart in no time."

He rises up to the challenge. "Who says I haven't?"

Red lips pucker up in surprise. _How shall I answer this…?_ "Well, I suppose I wouldn't mind that _if_ I had your heart in return."

"Tit for tat?" Byakuya considers it. "Well, who says you haven't?"

Hisana glomps him right _there, _her tiptoes on his feet, while his arms slide around her waist. She kisses him, and even then, his heart races a little faster.

"Rukia's right," Hisana admits. "You _are_ the best."

"I disagree. I think you are." He murmurs to her, voice husky.

"Well, if Hisana-chan says that _I'm_ right: then clearly _I'm_ the best, and you two should get a room." Playfully, the fifteen year old says, across the room. "I _can_ hear you, you know."

"Privacy?" He shoots a meaningful glance at Hisana, who bites her lip and her face is a pretty shade of red. "I'm sure it can be arranged."

* * *

"Tell me a secret." She insists, as Byakuya leads her away, practically skipping by his side.

"I have a soft spot for rabbits." He waits, then adds. "And many cute things."

"Am I cute?" Hisana asks with a grin, wishing to be indulged.

"No." Flatly he says, only to tease her. "You're much more than that."

"Then…?"

"You're beautiful." He says; hand on her shoulder as he guides her to another door.

"And you're sweet." The brunette says breezily in response. "Or would you have preferred handsome, oh modest one?"

"Either would suffice, coming from you." He chuckles, and slows his step. "Here, I wanted to show you this."

* * *

"It's for you."

A secret garden, his gift to her, ravishing with flowers and moonbeams and stars; a vivid decoration that is love in disguise – he's researched flowers and their meanings, and every single one of them will tell her, if she cares to look, what he hopes what their future will become.

"Wow…"

The way that Hisana is looking at him, like there's no one else in the world, save a quirky bunny-like sister, truly makes Byakuya admit, that he is whole heartedly in love with Souen Hisana.


	26. Part XXVI

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_26._

* * *

Ultimately, impatience is the victor in their battle of hot tempers and volatile personalities.

As it often is.

* * *

The catalyst is, as it so often is, unimportant.

It may have been something to do about the coolest bird in the world. This is clearly the albatross, not the peregrine falcon. And yet, violence cannot make Shinji – the idiot – change his mind.

But, eventually, as their predicament often goes, Shinji is standing on the sofa. Neither of them knows how that particular piece of furniture has managed to stay so long, but it has, and frankly, that furniture deserves a medal.

"You can't handle the truth!" Triumphant, Shinji roars, lanky legs outstretched.

"Well neither can you!" Instantaneously, Hiyori shoots back.

"Oh yeah?" Feigning insult, the blonde haired moron draws himself closer to her, narrowing the distance that he could take advantage of. "And why's that?"

Stupid for brains Shinji may be, but Hiyori is not.

Thus, she takes advantage of distance, and cements it with her savage mouth and biting teeth.

* * *

Another battle begins, and Shinji is glad that neither are the loser.

Well, except the sofa, having thrown the white flag in resignation a long time ago.

* * *

"That wasn't just the hormones, was it?" The blond says afterwards, hickeys and bruises all over his body.

"No, not _just_ the hormones." Hiyori rolls her eyes. "I'm in love, idiot. With you."

"Ah, how could you not be?" Irritatingly arrogant, Shinji grins and fully expects the retaliation. "But, Hiyori… I don't know how we fell apart, but I never fell out of love with you."

"Mm." Truth be told, Hiyori doesn't think she did either. But again, she's damned if she tells him _that._ "You are a sap."

"Oh?" His mouth widens – and _kami,_ she loves that mouth and clever tongue – and another challenge is accepted. "Ready for round two, are we?"

Straddling herself on his hips, Hiyori simply gives him an annoyed expression, which is milder than she used to give. "When did I ever say I wasn't?"

And then they descend on each other, and Hiyori gives Shinji more reasons to bruise and burn each other and mark certain areas with delicious torment.

* * *

Passionate they might be, hidden behind their violent exterior, but one thing is certain: Shinji's never leaving her again.


	27. Part XXVII

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_27._

* * *

When she wakes, in a colourless world of white, she sees Toushirou, who blinks rapidly with a start, and then gives a beautiful smile that she's always wanted to see.

"Hey," Toushirou says, smile still visible, though faint. "Welcome back."

"Hey," Karin says softly, and blinks slowly. "Glad to be back. How long was I…?"

"Three days." Quietly, he responds, and Karin nods, taking in his mussed up look, and thinks that is probably matches her own unkemptness.

She's sorry that she made him worry. She didn't mean to. She never meant to. And yet, people get hurt nonetheless.

"_Oh_." Moving her heavy limbs, if only slightly, Karin pushes herself up, and tries to make herself comfortable. "And, are you alright?"

There's a ghost of a smile, just waiting to be found. "I think you should be asking yourself that, not me."

"If I was, I would have. But, I'm asking _you_, aren't I?" She teases, and manages to laugh. Even though Toushirou doesn't return her merriment, and so her smile fades.

"I'm okay." Toushirou admits. "I've been better, but right now? I'm okay."

"Great." Her voice still is a little harsh for her throat, so she continues to speak in a soft tone, so she won't overstrain it. "Well, I think if I asked myself if I was alright, my answer would be 'no, I'm not'. I know I'm not, but… I will be."

"Yeah?" He smiles then.

"Yeah." Her own grin is crooked, ridiculously adorable. "You can count on it."

* * *

"So, now you're awake, and on the mend," Toushirou tries to humour her, "I want to know more about you."

"Aw, was the silent treatment not enough?"

"I suppose you could say that only encouraged me." He waggles his ears, and fails at that. So much for being a little bit flirty.

"Oh, is your type the hard to get?" Karin flirts right back at him. "Then I'll just carry on doing what I do best."

"… actually, my type is those who are interested in dinner at seven, when the hospital decides to finally release them." He shrugs, trying to maintain the banter. He's still not used the swift acerbity that writing down bars her previously.

"Mm, interesting. Can you see this type anywhere?" Her grin is far too cheeky, and Toushirou is enjoying himself far too much.

"Well, I was about to say that my type _may_ have been the person who I've been a muse to, but I think you're right: perhaps I've missed someone. I'll go find them now."

"Stay awhile, I'm sure you can find that person later." Karin backtracks, and reluctantly realizes that she has lost. "But if you're still interested in _me,_ oh sweet muse, then I assure you, that dinner sounds lovely."

"It's a date then." He grins.

"Yes it is." She grins. "Looking forward to it."


	28. Part XXVIII

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_28._

* * *

"I heard you're finally awake." Ulquiorra arches his eyebrow, as his childhood 'reflection' stands before him, asking him to take her home.

"That I am." Karin nods, quite pleased with it herself.

"Which is very good to know!" Nel grins. "And your boyfriend is _very_ cute, may I add."

"Nelliel…" Her _own_ boyfriend slightly growls out a warning.

Although Karin is blushing, quite mortified with the label.

"Ulquiorra did tell you that he was my muse, and _not_ my boyfriend, right?" The heat won't go away, flooding through her cheeks.

"I did." Ulquiorra says tonelessly.

"Yes, but I saw the way _he_ looked at you, and how you look right now, even as we speak. And I know love well enough to recognise it in someone else." Nel cheekily says, before addressing the warning sign from her own dear one. "And of course, for me, Ulquiorra, there is only you. But there is such thing as eye candy, which is never acted upon."

Karin looks at her, before realization strikes. "Did you… did you _talk_ to him?"

"Oh, they're all so embarrassed! Love shouldn't be mortifying, it should enjoyed! And _loved_." Probably like tonight. "I wonder if it's me, or just the general topic that makes people so tongue-tied."

"Trust me." Karin rolls her eyes. "It's definitely you."

* * *

"Bye." Karin waves them goodbye before she makes her way to her apartment. She's got a lot of stuff to do, in order so that she can take care of her self.

Like, calling her sister, for one.

* * *

"Aw, she's so cute." Nel says, wiggling in the chair, now riding shotgun.

"You really think she's love?" Ulquiorra can't help but ask. It's one thing talking about it with Karin, but with Nel… well, his protective instinct is making itself apparent.

"I'm going to say yes. And you, dear, are going to not be the big brother. Because who are you not?"

"…" Keeping his eyes on the road, and maintaining a straight face while having a deadpan expression, he answers. "… Itsygo."

* * *

Parking the car, Ulquiorra, slyly asks. "So, what was that about 'love should be enjoyed, and loved'?"

"Well, many things. Why? Did it sound a bit redundant?"

"No, not at all." His black hair shakes and his green eyes shut for a second. Just when he thought she couldn't get any sexier, Nelliel says something that must be acted upon. His mouth hovers just above hers, and with pleasure, he notes her eyes straying to his mouth. "I just thought that if you keep talking like that, we might just miss our movie tonight."


	29. Part XXIX

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

_

* * *

_

_29._

* * *

It's starlight and diamonds and everything with hardened edges that glitter in the moonlight, floating in the night sky that makes the world seem like a glass of chardonnay, swishing around them in a beautiful haze.

He'll give her one smile, and she'll give him a million in return, eyes lighting up like a swan's reflection, shimmering in the lake.

And maybe it's not much, the tilt of her hand and the curve of her cheeks, but it's what he needs more than anything else. He closes his eyes as she reaches out to touch his cheek, leaning in to feel her grace, swathed in silk sheets and soft sapphire eyes.

He thinks he's found it.

Happiness.


	30. Part XXX

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_3o._

* * *

They are different who they were before.

They're not so young and thoughtless as they were before; always looking in the eye of the storm and caring naught about the consequences.

Once upon a time, they fell in love; once upon a time, they fell apart. And yet, when they came together once more, they fell once more, not for the shadow of the people they used to be, but who've they've become. They've changed, even though much remains the same.

Maybe they'll always be a little bit feral, spurring insults and driving each other mad. But those blows have softened, not as vituperative as they were before. She has a baby on the way, and though Hiyori won't say the words, he's there by her side, understanding her nonetheless.

He teases her, and she mocks him; and these things, no matter what, won't change.

Because there's attraction in their witty and not so witty battles; and maybe Byakuya's right – their love is like the sun.

Burning like an inferno; like hell, like heaven.

It's been a bit of a turbulent journey, but… unlike before, they won't burn out like before.


	31. Part XXXI

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_31._

* * *

He gets his job back, and she gets better.

Sometimes her friends find her and she dances in that particular, all the time aware that his eye is on her, while she captures everybody's attention. Momo has plenty of times scolded Toushirou for this exact reason, and then he points out the not so clandestine relationship between her and Renji. Momo blushes, and shrugs, and remembers to remind Toushirou nonetheless, that he can't dillydally.

He's not restless—he means wistful, any longer.

He's not a muse any more, though he still aspires to inspire Karin, but he _has _finally started dating her.

And maybe it won't go anyway, but he's certainly hoping that he will.

As for Karin, who sits on a table, smiling like a mischievous customer; she waits for him to join her.

It's a start.


	32. Part XXXII

**l**_**u**_**n**_**e **_

* * *

_32._

* * *

She laughs as his hands get tangled in her hair, and they lie together after the throes of passion.

"Love you." Ulquiorra murmurs, voice rumbling deep in his chest.

Nelliel smiles at him sleepily, she kisses his cheek, and murmurs back. "Love you too."

Being here, living, existing, sleeping, waking… all of it counts.

Especially if she's here with him.

Tonight they sleep, and tomorrow they wake; and once more will their love exist with the start of new day, comparable to the brightness of a sun and the softness of a moon.

* * *

**a/n.** _For Suk-fong. Hope you enjoyed. Merry Christmas!_


End file.
